HTLJ: The Bargain
by Arianna18
Summary: When Hercules is severely injured, Iolaus makes a bargain with Zeus for his life


The townspeople had rallied, and were helping to fight off the warlord, and his hoard, who had decided to take over this small hillside village as part of the new territory the king wannabe was trying to carve out. We'd been there a week, fighting off the repeated forays of the outlaws, and organizing the townspeople, teaching them what we could in a limited time. And they were doing great! Even the women were out, sometimes only with a frying pan or broomstick, but every last man and woman was showing they could not, would not, be overrun. Gods, they were brave! I was proud of them! And, we were winning! Well, of course we were winning...we had Hercules on our side!

I rolled away from a sweeping sword and came up kicking. The mercenary was sloppy...easy to take. Most of them were. Springing onto the shoulders of another, to elbow either side of his head, I took a quick look around for Herc...and spotted him up on one of the roofs, battling with several of the bad guys who had been acting as snipers. One, and then another came flying off the roof to hit the dusty street...and to nicely take out a couple more of their comrades when they landed! Leaping from the back of the guy I had just knocked cold, I rolled again, grabbing a sword to engage two others who had been getting a little too close to one of the ladies with a frying pan....their swords outmatched her weapon, even if she could teach them everything they'd ever need to know about courage!

It was a little bit of chaos. Shouting and screaming filled the small square, men clashed with one another, grappling desperately because a slip, a mistake, would mean injury and maybe even death. Dust rose around us, caking on our clothes and skin, and blood turned to mud beneath our feet. But, there was also a sense of exhilaration that was arising from the townspeople around me. They knew they were winning... and their newfound confidence was overflowing, irresistable. Having laid out one of my opponents, I found the other lacking a certain enthusiasm. He and several others, who were a tad brighter than their comrades, had realized they were in a losing situation, and were edging back, away from the battle, to gather their horses and ride far away from this scrappy little mountain town. I let them go...I'll kill when I have to, but I don't like to go out of my way to do it. Maybe they had even learned a lesson here today... nah...not likely...but maybe.

It was done. We'd won. Just a bit of cleanup to do...round up the wounded mercenaries for the magistrate in the nearest city, help the wounded townfolk, bury the dead...thank the gods, most of the dead seemed to be bad guys. I looked across the square and up at the roof where I'd last seen Herc, and noted he was still there, grappling with three more guys who had been stupid enough to go up there after him. Hercules sent one of them flying and the last two had just jumped him...as if two of them could take him. Those mercernaries were either terminally stupid...or just had a simple, every day, run of the mill, deathwish!

I was trying to decide whether to head up there myself, when I heard a sharp snap and crack....the roof and part of the wall which supported it collapsed with a horrific crash, taking Herc and his opponents with it. As they disappeared from sight, I charged across the square to make sure my buddy was alright. I wasn't really worried...Herc had survived falls a whole lot worse than that, but it never hurt to check. I didn't like Hercules to think I took him for granted.

I remember those were my thoughts as I, and several other villagers, tore at the mess of smashed clay, stone and wood, clearing the doorway to get inside. I remember thinking that this would be one more repair that would have to be made before we could leave town, heading to whatever the next adventure might be. I remember I wasn't the least bit worried, I had no shadow of concern. To the contrary, I remember laughing and joking with the villagers as we pulled the last bit of debris out of the way... shouting to Hercules to help with the cleanup on his side of the tumbled down roof and wall.

And I remember seeing him, lying there so still, his body splayed awkwardly over broken stone...his neck twisted in an angle it was never meant to make. And, everything went silent...I couldn't hear anything, see anything else. Just Herc. I stumbled over the debris, oblivious to the broken bodies of the mercenaries who had attacked Hercules, unaware of the village people around me. Crashing to my knees beside him, I was almost afraid to reach out, to touch him. I could see his head and neck had landed across the edge of a large block of masonry which had broken his fall.

"Herc?" I whispered, finally reaching out to touch his face, to feel for a pulse in his neck...and sagged with relief when I found it. He was white as a ghost, his skin cold and clammy. Not yet moving him, I felt around his head, and found a nasty gash that was bleeding freely. Continuing my inspection, I found he seemed to have a dislocated shoulder, and several cracked or broken ribs...but nothing else was broken...nothing... just...his neck. He'd landed hard and off balance, maybe because those guys had been clinging to him when the roof gave way. Whatever...it didn't matter. What mattered was getting him out of this collapsed building, to someplace where I could take care of him. He'd be alright...there'd be some miracle...he had to be alright.

Sound crashed in on me again, the world retaking its form and colour. I yelled to two of the men to get a door or trestle board to place Herc upon, so that we could support him as firmly as possible when we moved him. In minutes they were back, with three of their friends. Together, we eased Herc onto the slab of wood...I held his head steady while the others lifted and shifted him. Then, we carried him to the healer's place...a small cottage not far from the square in the centre of town.

The healer, a small wizened old man, told us to put the slab of wood on top of his own table, so that we wouldn't have to move Herc more than necessary. He shooed the others out of the dim interior, back into the burning glare of the noon sun, but I refused to go...nothing and no one could make me leave Herc, nothing.

The healer'd been out in the square, with everyone else, and knew what had happened. He'd been right behind me when we'd gotten into the ruined shell of the building and had seen what I had seen. Delicately, he felt around Herc's neck, then moved to rummage in a cupboard which contained all manner of supplies, dressings, splints...and pulled out a curved, hardened piece of hide, along with a long strip of linen. Returning to the table, he said only, "Hold his head steady," and, after I had resumed my grip on either side of Herc's face, he slid the hide under and around Herc's neck, pulling it tight in front, then wrapping the linen around it to tie it securely in place, supporting his neck.

After that, he had me help take off Herc's vest and shirt, and help bind his ribs. Through it all, we worked silently. I had a lump the size of a grapefruit in my throat, threatening to choke me if I swallowed too hard, or took too deep a breath. My eyes burned, but I ignored them, focusing only upon what we had to do to help Hercules. I tried to keep my mind blank...whenever my control slipped, the image of him lying there in the rubble came back to me, making me want to retch. I forced my hands to stay steady while we worked over him, not giving in to their need to tremble. When we finished working on his ribs, we fixed his shoulder, the healer almost laying on top of him to hold him steady while I pulled and manipulated the flaccid, heavy arm back into the joint. Then, the healer checked for other injuries, but, like me, he found nothing else but the gash on the back of Herc's head. He cleaned that, and put a light dressing under Herc's head to protect the wound.

Throughout it all, Herc just laid there, not moving, not making a sound...his breathing shallow, hardly there at all...his face ashen and still.

Finally, the healer had finished his ministrations. Straightening, he stretched a bit, then turned to me, almost reluctantly. "You've some bad gashes...let me clean them up for you," he offered quietly, rather than speak the truth about the man on the table.

"I'm fine," I replied shortly...he deserved more courtesy but I had none to give just then. I couldn't take my eyes from Herc, couldn't stop silently willing him to wake up, stretch and grin...and tell me everything was fine.

The healer moved into my line of sight. "My name is Leurtes...I know you won't remember meeting me earlier this week..." I just nodded at him and shifted so that I could again see Herc clearly.

I felt his hand on my shoulder as he again tried to claim my attention. "Iolaus...you know there is nothing anyone can do for him....his neck is broken, his spine severed...."

"He'll be fine," I said flatly.

"Iolaus...."

I whirled on him then, grabbing the shirt that was open at his neck, in my fist. I know I must have sounded fierce...must have looked wild, because his eyes widened, and he shrunk away from me a little. "He'll be fine," I said again, with unnatural calm. "Hercules is half god...he heals like no mortal..._he's going to be fine_. We just need to take care of him and give him a little time."

I looked away from the pity that filled his eyes....pretending it wasn't there. I let him go, then turned to find a basin, fill it with water and grab a rag. I could make myself useful cleaning Herc up a bit...he was coated in dust and sweat. Before washing his face, arms and chest, I took off his boots, and loosened his belt, to make him more comfortable. Then, gently, with grim attention, I bathed his face, wiping it free of grit and dirt.

Gods, I knew this face so well...better than my own. Long lashed lids closed over eyes clearer than the morning sky, long straight nose that flared when he was annoyed, full lips that would smile slowly or laugh with surprised delight. Hair like silk, I thought, brushing it back from his face. And his shoulders, broad and strong enough to carry the cares of the world...and a good thing they were so strong, because that's what he did, every day. Long muscled arms, that fought evil wherever he found it, arms that had too often had to carry me when I had faltered or fallen. And his hands...strong, bronzed, long fingered...gentle hands, sensitive hands...hands that had gripped my arm or shoulder more times than I'd ever be able to remember... hands whose touch was sure and warm. Then, his chest...or what I could reach of it, that wasn't covered in bandages. Broad, well muscled, the casing for a heart that never quit caring, never quit doing what needed to be done, never quit absorbing one hurt after another only to keep going, keep loving...never quit....

I felt my eyes burn again, and I fought back the sob. 'You're going to be alright,' I murmured to him, to myself...and knew I was lying.

"Iolaus?" he whispered, my name like a sigh in that silent room.

As I gazed into his eyes, I tried to find a grin, but it felt like my face was frozen, my attempt lopsided at best. "Hey, so you finally decided to wake up...." I responded quietly. I couldn't ask him how he felt....I couldn't....

"What...happened?" he asked, swallowing with difficulty.

"The roof fell in...and took you with it... You... landed badly...." I held his eyes, much as I wanted to look away. There would never be a time when he needed me more than he did then.

Herc's eyes slid from mine as he looked around the room, sharp, darting glances, as if he was seeking some escape. He pressed his eyes closed, a slight frown appearing. I touched his shoulder to offer support... then realized that would do no good. Reaching up, I brushed back his hair, and cupped his cheek with my hand. His eyes came back to mine, the fear in them now clear...the dread. "I...I can't move...I can't...feel my body," he whispered then, his voice cracking.

"I know, Herc...your neck's broken...." Gods, I felt as if I was giving him his death sentence...and, I suppose I was. His eyes widened and darkened with emotion...disbelief, denial, horror, despair...breaking my heart. Then, his eyes filled with tears, as the reality of what had happened caved in on him. He pressed the lids of his eyes closed against the tears, but they seeped out from beneath...silently. I wiped them away, trying to keep my own eyes from brimming over. He didn't need me falling apart now...later, maybe, but not now.

"Shhh, buddy," I murmured, "you're not mortal...you heal like we never could...you'll be okay, Herc...you have to believe that...."

"I can't feel anything, Iolaus!" he shouted, the rage beginning. "How could this have happened?"

What could I say to that? An accident? Bad luck? Act of the gods? There was no answer, so I stayed silent, just kept one hand on his cheek, while the other stroked through his hair.

"I'm helpless," he rasped then.... "gods, Iolaus...what am I going to do?"

"For now...you're going to rest. We'll get through this, Herc...give yourself a chance. You might heal..."

He glared at me then. "You don't really believe that...." he grated, but there was a trace of hope hiding in his eyes, belying his denial.

"Herc, you've never ceased to amaze me in all the years I've known you...you've recovered from other injuries that would have killed an ordinary man."

"But...if I don't....." he whispered hoarsely, looking away.

"Regardless, you know I'll be with you...I won't leave you alone, Herc....we'll figure out how to deal with this...." I was fighting to keep my own voice steady, reassuring. Gods, I was terrified for him. It wasn't just the break, devastating as it was...I didn't care if I had to push him around in a wheelbarrow for the rest of our lives, so long as I still had him with me. But...this could kill him. I could tell breathing wasn't easy, and he was having difficulty swallowing. People who were paralyzed didn't usually live all that long...they caught pneumonia quickly, and there was nothing anyone could do to help them breathe. So, they died.

I couldn't bear the idea of losing him.

I could see in his eyes, that he wanted to argue with me...tell me he wouldn't be a burden to me...that he wouldn't let me stay with him, take care of him, forever if need be. I shook my head as I held his eyes with my own. "Don't," I whispered, "don't even think of sending me away, Herc. If it was me, you know you'd never leave me...and I'll never leave you....understand?"

"Iolaus..." he choked out, but then gritted his teeth against the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him, as his eyes again flooded with unwanted tears. I stayed with him, holding his face, brushing away the tears, until he finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Leurtes had remained quiet. Now, he brought another basin of water and more clean rags and set them on a stool beside me. "You need to clean yourself up," he said. "It won't help him to have you get sick from infected wounds...."

I nodded and gave him a sad smile of gratitude. I rinsed the grime and blood from my body, and finally allowed him to bandage an ugly cut on my arm. He took the basin away, to throw the filthy water out onto the earth at the side of his cottage. I perched myself on the stool beside Herc, watching him, wondering if I should try to keep him awake. The head injury was nasty and could well have caused a concussion. When I asked Leurtes about it, he just shrugged. I knew he thought it would be kinder if I just let Herc slip away. But, I couldn't...I wouldn't. And, besides, I could even be right...he might heal after all.

I tried to hold that thought, as the hours stretched from day to dusk, and then into night. Leurtes had lit a fire in his hearth, had made some soup. He offered me some, but I wasn't hungry. Herc was getting worse. There was a blue tinge around his lips, and his breathing was more laboured, more uncertain as the hours dragged by. He'd awakened, briefly, a couple of times...long enough for me to get him to drink some water. But, he wouldn't meet my eyes. I knew what he was thinking...what he was doing. Just exactly what I'd be doing in the same circumstances. He was giving up. He was hoping to die.

"C'mon, Herc," I begged, "You have to hang on...you have to fight this! Please...don't even think of leaving me...." But, he only gazed at me with sorrowfilled eyes, telling me in his silent way, that he was sorry....and, then, he would slip away into sleep again.

It must have been around midnight when Leurtes put a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You have to prepare yourself," he said kindly. "He's not likely to make it until morning...."

I lost it then...I couldn't help it. The sobs I had trapped in my chest rose to catch at my throat, and my eyes gave up the tears they had been holding back for hours. I know I moaned...I heard it, as if it was someone else. I couldn't stand this...I couldn't let this happen and just sit here and watch. I couldn't.

Spinning away from Leurtes hand, I ran from his cottage, out into the night. Standing beneath the stars in the silence of the darkness, I sobbed and begged for my friend's life. "Zeus!" I pleaded, the words a whisper on my lips, but shouted by my heart, "You can't let him die like this...you can make him well... please, oh gods, please....help him...HELP HIM!" Herc was his son, his best loved son. I had to believe that Zeus would hear me...that he would not ignore my prayer.

And, he did hear me. With immense relief, I saw the King of the Gods appear before me. Zeus' face was grave, lined as if by pain, his eyes clouded. "Iolaus...what would you have me do? You know the rules...gods are not to interfere...."

"_Don't quote your rules at me_!" I raged. "He's not some ordinary mortal! Herc's your son! You can help him...make him...make him as he was. Please, Zeus...I beg you...I'll...I'll do anything you ask...just, _help him_!"

Zeus studied me for a moment, as I shivered under his scrutiny, hardly able to keep my tears in check, consumed by the grief and fear that I felt for Hercules. "There is always a cost...." he murmured.

I nodded...I'd had enough dealings with the gods to know there were no free gifts...that there was always a price of love to be paid. "Whatever it is," I said, with no doubt, no hesitation, " I'll pay it....I'll do anything for him. You know that."

He nodded sadly, as he moved to stand beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder. I tried not to flinch away. "Yes, Iolaus, I have always known that." He gazed deeply into my eyes, then continued, "So be it....you must give up a year of your life...."

"Fine," I cut in, when Zeus paused for a moment, "go ahead, take a year...make me one year older now, or shorten the end of my thread...however you want to do it, take it!"

I couldn't believe it could be this simple. A year, too easy...Zeus could have it. What difference did a year make in a long life...which I planned to have, barring of course, any unforeseen catastrophes like getting killed again....and, if that happened, I wouldn't need the year anyway. I couldn't lose, and Herc would be okay. Great deal! I should have known better. With the gods, especially with Zeus, it's never easy.

Zeus looked at me oddly for a moment, then frowned. "No, Iolaus...I don't think you understand. When I said you must give up a year, I meant it...you are to leave Hercules' side, create a new life somewhere else for a year...and, even when you return, you are never to explain to him why you left...you must never let him know this bargain has been made."

"He'd never believe I'd just leave him..." I gasped in protest.

"You'll have to make him believe it," Zeus commanded me sternly. I flinched at the uncompromising tone in his voice. His flashing eyes softened then, as he chose to explain why this was necessary...and I suppose, in his way, he was requiring a merciful price. "Iolaus, you are asking me to restore his strength, allow him to live...that requires a sacrifice. I do not wish to take the whole of your life, or take all of the strength and energy from your body, to restore his....your heart and soul will have to pay this price...I must claim a year of your life as you know it. You must leave him.... find a separate path, a separate life, somewhere else."

I tore my eyes from his. Not see Herc for a year? Never let him know why I disappeared? Gods...would he even want me back after I'd been away for so long...would he ever trust me again? Zeus might think he was only asking for a year of time...but, this could cost a lot more than that...it could cost my friendship with Hercules forever. Gods....how could I risk losing his trust...? It would be easier to give my life...at least then he'd know I loved him...but, if I just walked away, and never explained why...he might hate me for the rest of my life. How could I live with that?

I felt as if my heart was being ripped right out of my chest. But...if I didn't agree, I knew he'd die...that I'd lose him, and so would the world. Better, at least, that the world still have him...even if I...even if it ended up costing me everything that mattered to me, everything that gave meaning to my life. This wasn't about me...it was about Hercules. There really had never been a choice. I had to do whatever it took...make whatever bargain was necessary to save him.

Choking back a sob of pain, I nodded, then looked back at Zeus, confirming my decision aloud. "Alright... but, I'm not leaving town until I know he's back to normal...that he's alright."

Zeus looked at me, a wry smile playing around his lips. "Why, Iolaus? Don't you trust me to keep our bargain?"

I didn't smile back. My eyes hard, as I tried to make my heart hard, I responded, "No, Zeus, I don't trust you....but, I will keep our bargain, if you will."

He nodded then, a trace of sadness in his eyes. "I know you will, Iolaus....I can always trust you to keep your word." And, then, he was gone.

I shuddered in the silence of the night. Standing there alone, I wondered how I was going to do this. Hercules would never believe I'd just leave him once he was well...and he'd follow me, demanding to know what was wrong. If I was going to do this, I had to do it now, while he was hurt and afraid...and make him hate me...so that he wouldn't come after me when I went...give me time to disappear.

Why didn't I just walk away? Well, because, if I just disappeared, and then he woke up perfectly fine in the morning, Herc would put two and two together. He could add, after all. And, then, he'd be on my trail...and, if I couldn't keep the bargain, spend a year of my life away from him...well, he'd die. I couldn't risk that. No...I _had_ to make him hate me to buy the time I needed to put enough distance between him and me that he'd never find me, even if he did begin to guess at the truth.

So, I was going to have put on the best performance of my life...to the one person who could always see right through me. Brushing the tears from my face with the back of a hand, I straightened my shoulders, and took a couple of deep breaths to find my centre. Then, I turned and went back into the cottage.

Inside, I stood by Herc's side, watching his face. When he started to blink a bit, the signal that he was waking again, I spoke to Leurtes, as if I believed he was still asleep. "So...you're convinced he won't get any better? That he'll always be crippled...useless?"

Leurtes gasped at my tone...surprised at the harshness of it...the trace of cruelty. He'd seen one man run from his cottage, unable to contain his grief...and another return, to stand cold and heartless before him. Oh, I can act alright, when I have to...I can be very convincing. Should have been on the stage. Gods, I wanted to weep. "You know he'll never recover...he's paralyzed...the spinal cord will never heal...." Leurtes finally mumbled in response.

I nodded tightly, keeping my face hard, as if making a decision, knowing Herc's eyes were now on me...but, he didn't know I knew he was watching, listening. Not looking at him, I said to the healer, "Then, I'm wasting my time here...he can't do anything more for me....."

"Iolaus?" came the troubled enquiry, just as I had known it would. Feigning surprise, and a look of discontent at being caught out, I looked down into his eyes...and made mine carefully blank, with just a trace of contempt. "Oh...you're awake again," I sighed. "Well, maybe it's just as well. I'm going, Hercules...we're finished."

He frowned, trying to understand...only hours before, I had told him I'd never leave him. I could see how it would be confusing. "Finished? What do you mean?" he asked, his voice quiet, fragile.

Sighing again, as if impatient, I replied, "Herc...it's been fun hanging around with you all these years...lots of adventure...lots of glory...but, it's done now...you're no use to me anymore....I might as well face the facts...there's no point in me hanging around here, as if I was some kind of nursemaid. It would be different if there was any hope you'd recover, but, it's pretty clear this damage is even beyond your semidivine healing capacity."

"But," he started, confusion still in his eyes.

He was thinking of our undying friendship...I knew he was. Gods, this was so hard. "No buts, buddy," I said, with a cruel sarcasm, "You always figured I was more than a street rat, a some time thief...and it was to my advantage to play along...but, you were wrong about me, Hercules...you've always been wrong about me. I can admit it now...there's no point in continuing the charade of being your friend...I'm not your friend...I never was."

Turning from the disbelief, the bewildered hurt, I saw in his eyes, I said to Leurtes, "His brother's the King of Corinth...send to him to send someone to get Hercules...or his body...they'll pay you for your efforts."

I cast one last hard look down at the man who meant more to me than my life. The look in his eyes was terrible, as he absorbed the betrayal of the one person he had always believed he could rely upon without question...too disoriented, too weak and hurt to realize my behaviour didn't make any sense. I smiled coldly, then, as I patted his cheek, "Don't feel so bad, Herc....Leurtes says you're likely to die before morning...so I know you won't suffer much longer."

'Good one, Iolaus,' I thought, 'make sure to kick him really hard when he's down.' Repulsed by my own cruelty, by the horror I'd created in his eyes, I kept my face cold, my body stiff. Then, I just turned away and walked out of the door, my heart screaming at Zeus, 'Alright, I've done it...he'll hate me for it...now it's your turn. _Make him well_!'

Once I was far enough away from the cottage, I stumbled to a tree and sagged against it, retching. Wrapping my arms around myself, I sank to the ground, wracked with sobs. Gods, I had hurt him so badly...I would never forget the look I'd seen in his eyes....I hated myself. I couldn't see how he could ever forgive me for this... because he'd never know why I'd said those terrible things, walked out on him when he needed me most. Herc'd never trust me again...it was over. The only life I'd ever wanted was gone.

Zeus came then, and put a comforting hand on my bowed head. "He'll be well by morning, Iolaus...I promise you....But, you can never tell him...if you do, the bargain will end, and he will die." I nodded, but couldn't trust myself to speak. I wanted to die then myself...a life without a heart or a soul wasn't worth living.

* * *

Hercules' eyes had followed Iolaus out of the cottage. He swallowed, tried to control his breathing, which had started to catch in his throat. This was a nightmare, had to be a nightmare...Iolaus would never say such things...would never just walk out on him. But, when Leurtes moved into his line of sight, an expression of infinite sorrow and pity on his face, when he reached out and gently brushed Herc's hair back from his brow...Hercules knew then, this was no dream. In a matter of hours, his whole world, everything he was, everything he had believed was his foundation, had crumbled away to dust.

He raged in his heart. He wanted to jump up and run after Iolaus, shake him, pound sense back into him...but, he couldn't move...would never move again. Hercules had never felt so helpless, so abandoned ... so alone. When he'd regained consciousness earlier, and realized the extent of his injury...when the full meaning of it had overwhelmed him, the only thing which anchored him, the only gleam of hope that some kind of future might still be possible, had been Iolaus' steadfast assurance that he would always be there. Iolaus was his rock...and without him, Hercules felt utterly shattered.

The tears came then, and brought great wrenching sobs with them. Leurtes hovered over the heroic demigod, wishing there was something he could do to help, some comfort to offer. He could not believe the callousness, the wanton cruelty he had just witnessed. Iolaus had fooled them all, with his bright laughing eyes, his winning smile, his ready charm and his seeming courage and integrity. Gods, he had fooled them all. Leurtes would have liked to have given Hercules a measure of privacy in his pain and grief, but was afraid to leave the man, in case he choked on the sobs blocking his throat. So, he stood quietly, gently mopping the tears from Hercules' face, giving what little solace he could. Iolaus should have just thrust a dagger into the demigod's heart...it would have been kinder than this.

The tears and sobs gradually died away as Hercules exhausted his thin reserves of energy. He stared up at the dim open beams and thatch of the ceiling, at the light and shadows cast by the flickering fire in the hearth. He could never have imagined such a betrayal could be possible...such deception. Iolaus had made a mockery of his life...had thrown the friendship and love Hercules had always believed they'd shared into his teeth. Something broke then, in the terrible emptiness of his chest...he couldn't feel it, not physically, but he knew his heart had come apart...Hercules did not know how it was that he could still be alive after a blow of such devastation. He bit his lip, and pressed his eyes closed, willing the darkness to come and capture him...to never let him go. He didn't want to live...there was nothing and no one left to live for.

The darkness did come then, the solace of sleep to muffle the pain and the despair, not only of the body, but of the soul. Leurtes sank onto a stool beside him, keeping watch. No one should be alone when they die, but, most especially, this man deserved so much more...deserved to be surrounded by love and compassion. So, through the long hours of the night, Leurtes kept vigil over the demigod.

It was just as the dawn was breaking that Leurtes thought he saw a movement of Hercules' right hand, a twitch, a clenching. Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes...he must have fallen asleep for a moment, imagined it. He rose, stiffly, from the stool, and stood to touch the hero's face. It was warm...the colour no longer pasty but a healthy, lightly flushed bronze. Frowning, Leurtes listened to the man's breathing ...and heard the change...Hercules was breathing easily, deeply. The healer jumped back as Herc stretched unconsciously as he came awake, feeling refreshed, as if he had slept soundly and naturally all the night long.

"Hercules!" Leurtes gasped, reaching out to take the demigod's arm, feeling the strength...the flaccid limpness was gone.

His voice and touch brought Hercules fully awake. He turned his head, raised a hand to place it over Leurtes', a puzzled look in his eyes as he tried to remember what he was doing here. He'd been fighting....and it came back, all the bitter, aching memories came back. His eyes darkened with pain, and unaware, he moaned softly, "Iolaus...."

Leurtes looked away, unable to witness the depth of agony in those incredibly blue, clear eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. But, then overcome with awe, he looked back into Hercules' eyes. "You're no longer paralyzed. I don't know how this is possible....Iolaus said...."

Hercules winced at the name. "Yeah," he murmured, "he said I have a divine gift of health...it seems he was right about that...." He could not keep the harsh anger from his voice. Damn him! DAMN HIM! How could Iolaus have betrayed him like he had...how could he....Hercules shut the thoughts down, shut them away. It had happened. The friendship he had leaned upon for almost the whole of his life was a sham...and it was gone. He'd have to live with that...somehow. Suddenly, he just felt so tired...unable and unwilling to go out to face the day...to face the people of the town. He needed time...needed somehow to find a new balance in the fragile reality of his life.

Leurtes saw the bewilderment and pain... "Rest, Hercules," he murmured. "You've suffered terrible shocks...and you need a little more time before you leave my care. Sleep awhile longer."

Herc didn't look at him, but nodded at his words, and let his eyes drift closed again. Just for a little while longer. When he woke again, the morning was almost gone. Much as he wanted to hide, nurse the wound to his heart...to his soul...he knew avoidance of reality would make nothing better. It was time to start his new life...begin again with a new, emptier reality. Rolling, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the table, he caught Leurtes eyes. "Thank you, my friend...for all that you have done for me....I'll remember... your kindness."

Leurtes nodded acknowledgement, his eyes sad. Reflexively, he moved to help the big man put on his boots, to remove the hide brace from around his neck and the bandages around his chest...handed him his shirt and vest. Then, he helped Hercules stand, to ensure he was steady on his feet. Herc didn't need his help...physically, he was fully healed...as strong and capable as he had been before the roof collapsed the day before...before his life collapsed last night. Herc gave Leurtes a slight smile, or tried to, and then he was moving....heading out of the door of the cottage, to face a new, very different, day.

* * *

I was in the tavern, having a simple lunch of bread, cheese and ale...mostly ale...when Herc walked in... strong, healthy. Gods, it was so amazing, so wonderful to see him on his feet...I wanted to shout with joy, jump up and grab him, hug him, feel him hug me back. But, of course, I couldn't do any of those things. Zeus had kept his part of the bargain...it was time for me to go. I hadn't expected, though, to have to face Herc again...I had imagined, somehow, that I'd just see him from a distance, that he'd never know I was still there. But, here he was, not ten feet away. It was time to go back into my act...he had to hate me...so that he wouldn't follow me when I left.

Hercules was surrounded by wellwishers who were delighted to see him recovered so miraculously. His eyes were warm, and there was a suggestion of a smile on his lips as he responded to their enthusiastic joy to see him well...but, I could see he was still pale and tense. Then, he saw me, and the warmth left his eyes...the slight flash of hope was quickly quenched to leave a hard flatness behind.

I had covered my helpless, wholehearted smile of happiness and gratitude at seeing him on his feet, walking, moving so naturally, with a wry smile of acknowledgement when his eyes caught mine. I stood, hitching my bag over my shoulder, and walked over to him, my eyes traveling the length of his body and back again to the hostile, defensive eyes. "Well, look at you," I said, resting a hand on the hilt of my sword, gripping it to keep myself strong, "seems I gave up too soon....wonders will never cease." He didn't say anything, and the others, feeling the tension, fell silent. "I can see there's little point in pretending I just lost my head last night....I always knew the truth would get me into trouble some day...and I'd gotten so good at the lie...ah well...it was fun while it lasted." As I brushed by him, I murmured softly, desperately trying to hold onto the trace of contempt in my voice, but having a hard time of it, "It's good to see you up and around...take care of yourself, big guy." And then, I was gone...out of the door, and heading down the dusty street, running out of his life...running from the only life I had ever wanted.

* * *

Hercules watched Iolaus walk out of the tavern, his ubiquitous bag over his shoulder, his sword in its scabbard on his belt. His hair as golden and unruly as ever...his walk as jaunty. But, he was a stranger. Herc felt torn up inside...scarcely able to believe what had happened between them last night, and now, to see the coldness in his friend, to hear the harshness in his voice....where had Iolaus gone...how could he have been so devious for almost the whole of his life? But, he had to believe what Iolaus had told him...Herc believed Iolaus hadn't realized he'd awakened and heard what he'd said to the healer, until Hercules had spoken...and then, it seemed there was no reason for Iolaus to conceal his feelings any longer. No matter how wrong it felt, how unbelievable....it had to be the truth. Why else would Iolaus have said what he did? Why else would he be leaving now?

Hercules tried to harden his heart. Tried to hold onto the anger of being betrayed...but, all he felt was bereft...lost somehow, hurt beyond expression. He turned back to the villagers, who had continued to draw his attention, continued to heap their thanks and good will upon him. It took a while, but he finally extricated himself and left the tavern...left the town. Iolaus was nowhere in sight...Hercules had no idea which way he'd gone...nor did he have any intention of trying to find out. His rage at the betrayal was beginning to build, a welcome substitution for the pain of loss, of abandonment.

Not knowing where else to go, Hercules headed to Jason's Academy. He needed to be with someone he could trust right now...to find out if he could ever really trust anyone again.

* * *

Hercules held onto the anger, the rage, for a good part of the day. But, as the afternoon wore on, he couldn't stop his mind from replaying, over and over, the scenes in the healer's little cottage, kept hearing Iolaus' words...those from earlier in the day...and those just before he'd left. His eyes had been so caring, so full of love and sorrow for what Hercules was suffering, when he'd said, "..._you know I'll be with you...I won't leave you alone, Herc....we'll figure out how to deal with this...._"

And, later, when Iolaus had sensed Hercules wanted to push him away, not be a burden, Iolaus had whispered, "_Don't...don't even think of sending me away, Herc. If it was me, you know you'd never leave me...and I'll never leave you....understand_?"

Later still, when Hercules was giving up, Iolaus held on to Hercules, wouldn't just let him fade away, but demanded Hercules keep fighting to live, begging, "_C'mon, Herc, you have to hang on...you have to fight this! Please...don't even think of leaving me...._"

But, then, there had been other words...another, different Iolaus, saying terrible things, words Hercules wanted to blot from his mind, from his memory, but, they, too, played over and over as the afternoon faded into dusk. "_I'm going, Hercules...we're finished_."

Hercules remembered his confusion when Iolaus had said that, his disbelief when Iolaus explained, "_Herc...it's been fun hanging around with you all these years...lots of adventure...lots of glory...but, it's done now...you're no use to me anymore...there's no point in me hanging around here, as if I was some kind of nursemaid. It would be different if there was any hope you'd recover...._"

Iolaus had seen the disbelief in his eyes, had carried on relentlessly, showing no mercy as he destroyed the foundations of Herc's life, stripped away the truth of their friendship, with a cruelty Hercules had never before seen in him. "_You always figured I was more than a street rat, a some time thief...and it was to my advantage to play along...but, you were wrong about me, Hercules...you've always been wrong about me. I can admit it now...there's no point in continuing the charade of being your friend...I'm not your friend...I never was_."

And, then, the blinding coldness, the frozen eyes, when Iolaus revealed his contempt, revealed how little the demigod ever meant to him, when he'd said before leaving, his hand like a brand on Herc's cheek, "_Don't feel so bad, Herc... you're likely to die before morning... you won't suffer much longer_."

_Suffer_? Gods, Hercules felt as if the suffering was only just beginning. In the growing darkness, he stumbled over something on the path, fell to his knees. He crossed his arms over his chest, gripping himself tightly, holding in the pain of anguish and grief...at the loss of the one person who had been the most important being in his life.

How could Iolaus have done this to him? How could he have acted like that last night, and then this morning as he'd said, "_I can see there's little point in pretending I just lost my head last night... the truth would get me into trouble... so good at the lie..._" And then, as he left, walked away, "_It is good to see you up and around...take care of yourself, big guy_."

Iolaus had turned from his steadfast best friend into a stranger in a matter of moments...

It made no sense, not any of it...Iolaus had died rather than betray Hercules, had faced untold dangers for more years than Hercules could remember to stand beside him, guard his back. Iolaus, then why....? With a blinding awareness, the truth of the sequence of events last night broke through.

Iolaus had abandoned him...and hours later, Hercules was healed.

_Gods, he'd been a FOOL_!!! Iolaus hadn't turned on him...Iolaus would _never_ abandon him..._He'd made a bargain_! With one god or another, Iolaus had bargained for his life...and the cost had been to walk away. For a moment, Hercules felt almost overwhelmed by blinding happiness at the realization that Iolaus hadn't betrayed him...was still, and always would be, his best friend.

And, then, Hercules heard his friend's last message, hearing the words, with a different tone, a tone of wistful despair, the message inside the words, "_pretending...last night... the truth would get me into trouble... It's good to see you up and around...take care of yourself, big guy_."

Hercules' heart twisted. "By the gods," he whispered, "I let him go...what have I done?"

Hercules surged back up onto his feet then, heading back to that little hill town, running through the gathering dark, desperate to not be too late. He had to find Iolaus' trail...had to catch up with him, bring him back.

It was just after dawn, when Hercules arrived back in the village. He spent the morning asking everyone he met if they had seen which direction Iolaus had taken, finally finding a kid who pointed toward the forest to the east of the village. He'd loped to the edge of the treeline, examining the ground with determined concentration, until he found what he sought...Iolaus' tracks. His partner had entered the forest here. Hercules followed the trail for about three hundred yards...and then, it was gone. He searched frantically, but there was no other sign. Iolaus had done this....knowing Hercules was likely to figure it out, and come after him, he had made himself disappear.

Hercules sagged then, overcome with the exhaustion of the nights without sleep, the emotional depletion of all that had happened over the last two days. He felt a great gnawing pain fill his chest, stealing his breath away. Iolaus had sacrificed himself again...and Herc had let him. Gods, he'd been blind...how could he have just let Iolaus walk out of his life...how could he have been fooled by the lies...he should have known better. '_Iolaus_!' he cried out then, '_where are you?...IOLAUS_!'

But, there was only silence.

* * *

Two days later, Hercules stumbled into the Academy courtyard, his steps dragging. He hadn't stopped... he'd traveled for two straight days and nights. The first night, he had tried to stop, but when he started to build the fire, he just saw the image of Iolaus on the other side, heard the irrepressible laugh...and couldn't stand it. He drove himself on, the exhaustion preferable to the memories. He needed help to find Iolaus, all the help he could get...and Jason was the first one he had thought to turn to...Jason would not rest until the two of them found Iolaus, got him back.

Jason was alarmed at Hercules' appearance...unkempt, unshaven...great dark circles under his eyes, his face ashen. Frightened, Jason looked past Hercules, looked for Iolaus, but, with a sinking feeling, realized Iolaus wasn't there. Gods...had something happened to him? Hercules looked like death warmed over. Reaching his friend's side, Jason put a supporting arm around him. "Hercules," he asked, trying to hold his voice steady, "What's wrong? Where's Iolaus?"

Hercules made an odd sound, as if a bitter laugh was caught in his throat. "He's gone, Jason...I let him go...."

Jason didn't know what this meant. Was Iolaus dead? What else would make him leave Hercules? What else could cause this devastation? Realizing Hercules was on the edge of collapse, Jason forebore to ask more questions, just guided his friend into the staff mess, and brought him a mug of ale. After Herc had taken a long drink, Jason sat down across from him, laid a hand on Herc's arm, and said simply, "Tell me what happened."

He listened without interruption as Hercules told his tale...but, his eyes darkened as the story progressed, and a frown appeared, drawing his dark brows together. When Hercules finally finished with a sigh, "All these years, Jason...after all these years...I let him convince me of a lie...let him leave thinking I believed the lie...that I hated him. Gods, I've been such a _fool_."

Jason snorted then, as he pulled his hand from Herc's arm. "Hercules," he said, with a tone of controlled frustration, "you may be a demigod, with the kindest, bravest heart the world has known...but, you're not infallible. Iolaus knew what he was doing...choosing the time when you were weakest so that he could confuse you...don't beat yourself up too much. He did it for you...and he got the results he wanted. If you're right, that he made a bargain, and I think you are, then part of it had to be for him to make his escape successfully...he couldn't take the chance of you following him. We'll just have to find him, that's all...bring him home."

Herc gazed sorrowfully at his friend, appreciating Jason's words, but unable to let the guilt go. And, truthfully, Jason felt he deserved to feel a bit of that guilt. Iolaus had died for Hercules...and, he'd die again, gladly, if that's what it took to protect him. How Hercules could have believed, even for a moment, even hurt as he was, that their friendship, the love the two of them had for one another, could be a lie, was sad beyond words. In some ways, Hercules was a fool...too ready to deny Iolaus' devotion could be as deep and abiding as his was for Iolaus...too ready to believe he never deserved it or him

But, Jason's heart twisted at the naked grief and guilt in Hercules' eyes ... the tears were close, the loss sharp.

Jason shook his head again, then gripped Hercules' arm, drawing his eyes back. There was an urgency in his voice as he tried to pull Hercules from his well of despair. It wouldn't help them find Iolaus...wouldn't do anyone any good, and could only get in the way. So, Jason drew Hercules back over the events, to help him understand why he had believed the lie, acted the way he had.

"Think about it, Hercules ... you're lying there with a broken neck...probably dying...you must have been lost in a fog of terror, grief, anger, desolation. You wake up and hear Iolaus saying something incredible... something that can't be true...but, he's said it...as if he meant it. You watch him leave...feeling more lost and alone than you have ever been...utterly betrayed. You wouldn't have been able to reason your way through it rationally at that point...your emotions would have been too devastating. And then, when you woke up healed in the morning, it would have been even more confusing...and, I suspect, in a strange way, almost secondary to the pain of Iolaus' betrayal of your friendship. You were in shock, Hercules...as Iolaus must have known you would be...as he must have counted on. He must of stayed in the village only long enough to make sure whichever god he made the deal with kept the bargain, that you were indeed restored to full health...but, I think you're also right about your interpretation of his last words...he couldn't leave, without leaving some part, however cryptic, of the truth."

Hercules knew what Jason was trying to do...and he appreciated it. But, underlying the guilt at having bought into the deception was a deeper guilt. Once again, being his friend had carried a heavy cost for his partner.

"_He made a bargain, Jason_...with one god or another...Iolaus made a bargain for my life...and the cost was having to walk away from his own life. Once again, he's given up everything he has for me...to save me. Gods, Jason...." Hercules couldn't continue...he buried his face in his hands. His feelings were all mixed up...gratitude, guilt, loss, grief...and fear, about what might befall his friend now, as he wandered somewhere, hiding himself, trying not to be found.

Gods, Jason loved these two men, always had...but, he'd long known that, for all that they were heroes, they both carried a profound insecurity, never really believing they could deserve, or continue to hold, the unconditional love of the other...or accept that either would give all they had for the other...and count the cost worth it.

Jason stood and put a hand on Hercules' shoulder, shaking him a little. "Hercules, stop this...you can't keep blaming yourself for what happened. The fall, the injury, was an accident. And, Iolaus chose to make the bargain for your life...no one forced him. Gods, Hercules, no one knows Iolaus' heart better than you...no one knows better how readily he gives everything he has, everything he is, for you, to you. You're his life, Hercules...you always have been. If you'd died, he would never have been able to accept it, not if there was anything he could do to prevent it. He made the choice he had to make...that he wanted to make."

Hercules knew everything Jason had said was true...but, it didn't help. Only made it worse. "By the gods, Jason," Hercules whispered, "how could I have let him go...."

"Well, there's nothing you can do about that now...we'll just have to find him," Jason said, with little patience.

Hercules stared into Jason's eyes, a haunting sorrow in his own. "I...I don't even know where to start looking...I have no idea where he's gone...."

Jason frowned at that, looked away to hide the despair in his own eyes. When Iolaus wanted to lose himself, no one could find him. 'Damn and blast,' he thought, his heart sinking, 'and he probably doesn't care much if he lives or dies...damn the gods who demand such suffering..._damn them all_!'

* * *

I was convinced I had destroyed my friendship with Hercules...that, even if I could go back after a year, that it wouldn't matter...because he wouldn't have me back without a good explanation...and I couldn't explain. No one knew Herc as well as I did, no one. And I knew that, fair as he was, it was too much to expect forgiveness without some compelling reason...not after the betrayal and abandonment I had just put him through.

I must have hidden myself in the forest for more than a week...wandering, not caring where I was or which direction I was headed in. I wasn't hungry, so I didn't eat...just drank from the occasional stream. When I was tired, I laid down wherever I was, not bothering to build a fire. When I woke up, I walked. Finally, I found myself sitting by a river, leaning my back against a tree, not really conscious of how I'd gotten there, and I realized I was crying... again... still. Damn, I really hate it when I cry...it always makes me feel weak ...and usually, I can control myself. But, I felt so lost, my centre was gone...my purpose in living was gone. What the hell was I going to do without Hercules? So, there I was, blubbering like some baby... again, still.

I couldn't go on this way and I knew it. So, decision time. Was I going to just kill myself to end the pain which was the only thing inside besides the emptiness...or was I going to get on with my life? I remember I pulled the knife from my boot, the knife Herc and I had forged together so many long years ago. I remember staring at it, testing the sharpness against my thumb ...cutting myself in my carelessness.

Frowning with frustration and disgust for my own cowardice, I drove the knife into the ground at my side, and sucked at the small wound, grimacing at the salty, metallic taste of my blood. It was bad enough to have walked away from my best friend...I couldn't also just walk away from all we had stood for...I couldn't live that much of a lie.

Nor could I just give up...no one can read the future, least of all me. Maybe there would be some way to reconcile after a year. Maybe if I just hung around doggedly, kept guarding his back, apologized for being a fool...who knew...maybe....and, if he still hated me a year from now, if he wouldn't have anything more to do with me...well, I could revisit my options then. So, killing myself now wasn't an option.

Sighing, I rested my head back against the trunk of the ancient oak, listened to the river and the wind as it ruffled through the leaves above me...listened to the occasional whistle of a bird, the chatter of an angry squirrel, let the sounds wash over me, sooth me, quiet the aching sorrow inside. What could I do? Where could I go?

Away, I decided. Somewhere out of Greece. I couldn't stay here...the chances of running into Hercules were too great...and I knew, eventually, Hercules would figure it out and come after me. I couldn't risk seeing Herc again until the year was over...I couldn't stand to face him and maintain the lie, pretend he meant nothing to me...and I couldn't ever tell him the truth. If I did, it would be his death sentence. So, where could I go? North, to the slavic steppes? West, into the wild heart of Europe? East, again, to find a measure of peace? Shaking my head, I decided it didn't matter. I'd head north for now, until I was well into Macedonia...and then see where my feet took me.

It was worth it, it was all worth it, I told myself, to know that Herc was alright. I had no doubts about the rightness of what I had done. Gods, I was so _glad_ he was alright...I knew he'd miss me, but at least he was alive...and, he'd carry on. I grinned, a bit, in spite of myself, then...Herc couldn't help himself...of course he'd carry on...helping people who needed him...fighting tyranny and evil. It was who and what he was.

What happened now, to me, didn't matter...didn't matter at all. I let my mind drift, then, with the river and the wind...tried to let my old life slip away, without fighting to hold onto it. How could I regret it's loss, even if it was forever, when it meant Hercules would live and be strong? But, gods, it hurt to think he might never consider me a friend again...that the year apart might only be the beginning of the end of my life....the aching emptiness inside was worse than dying. I wished Zeus _had_ demanded my life...it would have been easier than this. Finally, I fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Jason and Hercules had sent messages to everyone they could think of, asking them to keep an eye out for Iolaus, to ask around for him...and to send word if they heard anything. Xena and Gabrielle, Salmoneous, Autolycus, all wandered freely around Greece, and heard more than most about what was going on, were bound to find a lead they could follow. But, not taking any chances, they sent messages as well to old comrades, warriors from wars fought in their youth, who were settled now in every corner of Greece.

Then, they travelled together to Corinth, to Iphicles, to ask him to use the resources available to him to seek out word of Iolaus...and Iphicles hesitated not a moment before sending out riders to search in each direction of the compass...and messengers to fellow Kings, and Queens, to ask their help as well in tracing the lost Hunter.

Hercules even called out to his family...Aphrodite, Artemis, Athena, Hephaestus, Demeter, Persephone, Poseidon, Hades...even Zeus...Herc had begged, pleaded for some kind of sign, just a hint, of where he might look for Iolaus. He knew they had to have heard him, but, none answered...it was as if he had been cut off, cast adrift.

Hercules was sick with self loathing and despair. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid, so ready to just let Iolaus walk away, without confronting him, without making him explain his words...his actions. He should have known the real lie...should never have doubted the truth of their friendship. Gods, how could he have just let him go...without a word...with hard eyes and a cold heart. Standing alone on the palace roof, he looked out over the Bay of Corinth, silver now under the moon's glow. "Where are you, Iolaus?" he murmured, his heart aching, "Where have you gone, my friend? How will I find you?"

He hadn't heard Jason join him, didn't know he was there until he felt the comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll find him, Hercules...he can't hide forever."

Herc wasn't so sure. He'd thought about it a lot. Tried to put himself in Iolaus' boots, tried to think like his friend would. "He won't stay in Greece, Jason....and, once he gets past our boundaries....it's a big world...." Herc's voice caught in his throat. "I can't just stay here...I have to..." but, his voice fell away.

"'Have to, what' Hercules?" Jason asked, gazing at his longtime friend, hearing the pain in Hercules' voice.

"Gods, I don't know...I can't stand the waiting....I'm sure he's headed out of Greece and, I doubt he'd take a ship...he's too recognizable...he'd know we could trace him....But, there are so many ways for him to go, too many trails to follow...if I set out along one, he might be on another...and I'd miss him...and he'll be gone for good....Do you think he knows we're looking for him?"

Jason thought about that, as he looked into the night. "Oh, he knows, Hercules...Iolaus would know you wouldn't believe his lie for long...that you'd realize he was up to something....Believe it, Hercules...Iolaus knows you're searching for him."

Hercules shook his head. "That's too bad, Jason...because that will just make him all the harder to find."

* * *

I'd lost track of the days by the time I finally left the cover of the forest, figuring I was far enough north that I wasn't likely to run into anyone we knew. I wasn't really paying much attention, I guess...I hadn't been sleeping all that well...couldn't remember when I last ate...and I was pretty indifferent to my surroundings at that point. It's the only excuse I have for walking right into a pack of human wolves.... minions of some local warlord, I'd guessed when I saw them, as if it mattered.

"Well, lookee here," one of them chuckled, when I blundered along what I had thought was a deserted lane, only to find myself surrounded as brigands emerged from the forest around me. "Someone's come along to offer his services to our lord!" There were more than a dozen of them...big, swarthy men, tough, wearing warrior garb, well armed.

'Great,' I thought, watching them form a ring around me...their reflexes were better than mine at that point, and they were thinking more clearly. I'd just stood there, like a dolt, when I first realized how stupid I'd been and, now, all avenues of escape were blocked. 'Well, I can make them fight for me...maybe, if I'm lucky, one of them will kill me....'

Well, yeah, I know I had decided to get on with my life, decided not to kill myself...but that didn't necessarily mean that I hoped I'd live forever. Truth is, I didn't care what happened to me. It wasn't important. Still, it went against the grain to go down without a fight.

I smiled winningly at them, holding my hands out, showing I meant no harm, saw them relax a little...they were all quite a bit bigger than me, after all, and there was only one of me against a lot more of them. They could afford to relax. And, then, I was in motion. Yelling at the top of my voice, I whirled, lashing out with my feet, taking out the one closest, and then the man beside him. I might have enjoyed the sharp, shocked look on their faces if I hadn't had to keep moving. I dropped and rolled under a sword that had slashed at my throat, and, rolling, I knocked over another one, then, twisting onto my feet, I leapt up onto the back of one, while I punched another, breaking his nose...and, yeah, it hurt! Saving my fist from a further bruising, I elbowed my ride at the base of his neck and he dropped like a stone...I tried to roll away, but, there were too many of them...and they jumped on top of me...at first, I thought I might squirm out from under the uncoordinated pile of bodies, arms and legs...but, one strong hand grabbed me and held on. I bit him...but, by then, another had a hold on me...it was hopeless, but still I twisted, punched, kicked, fought, yelled...

'Why the hell doesn't one of them stab me and end it?' I thought desperately, just as something crashed down on the back of my head, knocking me cold....

* * *

My head was pounding as if someone was using it for an anvil...and I could smell unwashed bodies surrounding me, mixed with the stink of some godawful mess cooking over the fire. Groaning, I tried to straighten, and realized I was securely bound, the rope around my ankles attached to my hands, which were tied behind my back. My whole body hurt...as if I'd been run over by a herd of horses...I think they must have kicked me after I was out...there's nothing worse than a sore winner. Finally, deciding to find out where I was, I blinked and squinted into the firelight.

"So, you decided to wake up, did you, Goldie?" a lazy voice observed. Well, this guy was sharp...there was no fooling him. I would have commended him on his observation skills, if I hadn't been gagged with a smelly, foultasting rag. "Ooomppphhh," I said, in response. He just laughed, stood up and kicked me....not very friendly, I thought, repressing yet another groan. Gods, my ribs hurt.

Who were these guys? What did they want from me? Because, it was clear they wanted something... otherwise, I would have been dead instead of just bound and gagged. Closing my eyes, I moaned unconsciously....not with pain, although that would have been reason enough, I guess, but from a sense of futility....things just kept getting worse. Taking in the relative hopelessness of my current situation, I decided there didn't seem to be much point in staying awake, so I passed out again.

They shook me awake the next day, just after dawn. One surly brute untied my feet so I could walk... cuffed me when I kicked at him...then tied the long end of the rope looped around the hands still tied behind me to the pommel of his horse, and then they galloped off...me running behind...west, toward Meteora. I could see the strange spires of rock lifting toward the sky not many miles ahead.

I had to run flat out to keep up with the pace they'd set...it was hard to breathe with the gag...hard to run with the bruised ribs, the concussed head, hands tied behind my back and legs that felt as if they'd been trampled. So, it was only a matter of time until one ankle twisted over a rock, making me stumble as the lead rope pulled me off balance. I fell, hitting the ground hard. They didn't seem to mind...they just dragged me....I choked back a scream at the pain...my arms felt as if they were being torn backwards, out of my shoulders. Desperate to relieve the pressure, I kicked, twisted and flipped, finally pushing my body back through the loop of my arms...not all that easy when you're being dragged across rough, stony ground...try it sometime...you'll see what I mean...actually, I'm kidding...don't try it. I wouldn't wish that kind of pain on anyone.

Anyway, I had worked my body around so that my arms were being pulled out in front of me...better, well, except for the sharp stones, sticks, thorns and whatall which tore the skin on my bare chest as I was dragged...oh, and the rocks I kept hitting with my head. I yelled and cursed at the mercenaries...at least I did, until one rock caused more than a glancing blow...I could see it coming at me...I tried to twist away, protect my head, but....gods it hurt! And, then I was unconscious again. That was better, really...a more comfortable way to travel, given the circumstances.

When I woke up, someone kind was running a cool damp cloth over my face...and my hands were finally untied...the gag gone from my mouth. It was a relief just to be able to breathe freely again...except for the pull in my ribs, every time I inhaled. Damn, something was cracked or broken...not good.

It was a struggle to open my eyes...I think I must have been in worse shape than I realized at the time. I was in a fair sized cave, the air smoky from a number of fires...the light dim. There were a lot of people around me....clothed in rags, with that slumped shouldered, defeated look that so often occurs when folks are starved and overworked at the same time.

My eyes had trouble focusing, but I was finally able to make out the face of the kind soul who was trying to help me. She was just a kid...couldn't have been much more than twelve or thirteen...and she looked like she'd been hungry forever, she was so thin...just skin and bones. Her dirty shift hung loosely on her small frame, her face was pale and pinched from privation...but, the light in her eyes and the smile that lit when she saw me wake were real...testament to the strength of her heart and the generosity of her soul. Why she'd care about me...or anyone else...given what I was to learn from about her life, was beyond understanding. I decided she was an angel...but, I didn't know that at the time...I just knew she was gentle.

"My name's Iolaus," I croaked, my throat parched.

"Mine's Leah," she replied, as she supported my head and held a mug of water to my lips. I drank, gratefully, too fast...and choked. She held me with surprising strength until I'd gotten my breath back, had stopped coughing and settled my breathing down...gods, it hurt.

"Where are we?" I rasped, my voice rough then, from the coughing.

She frowned a bit, her eyes sad...bless her soul, she hadn't wanted to be the one to tell me. But, she didn't flinch as she gazed into my eyes, and replied, "We're in Gordius' camp...he's the local warlord...and we're his slaves."

Slaves. Oh Gods. I closed my eyes then, taking in this new knowledge. Yeah, it seemed things really just did get worse. I listened as she continued, "We work in his quarry...we cut marble...." Her voice drifted away, wondering if I was listening, if I was even still conscious. I nodded, to let her know I was still with her, then opened my eyes again.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Two years...they took me...after they'd killed my folks," she replied softly, looking away. Poor kid...she lived in Tarturus...and she hadn't even had to die to get there.

I took her hand, made a promise I had no idea of how to keep. "I'll get you out of here," I said, without any doubt that I would, somehow.

But, she shook her head, as she smiled sadly back at me. "If you try, they'll kill you," she said simply, as she continued to wash the blood and dirt from my body. Looking down at myself, I cringed. Gods, I was covered in blood from the thousands of cuts, scrapes, gouges...and my wrists were burned raw from the rope which had bound them. I took a silent inventory, trying to figure out how badly I'd been injured. But, then I gave up...everything hurt. There wasn't the least, tiniest spot on my body that didn't scream out for relief.

'Dear gods, Herc....' I thought, gritting my teeth against the waves of pain which assailed me, 'how could I make such a mess of my life in such a short time? Gods, I wish you were here....' But, I knew that was impossible...that I might never see him again...and that was the worst pain of all.

Leah was gentle, doing her best for me...but I could hardly stand the touch of her hands, or the wet cloth, on my body. Finally, she was finished, and I could let out the breath I'd been holding so that I wouldn't yell, or groan, or do something equally pitiful. Bad enough to be such a wreck that I was dependent upon the mercy of a kid.

Then she turned to the fire, to fetch me a bowl of soup...and she forced me to eat it, one spoonful at a time while I fought my dizziness and nausea, trying to keep it down. She knew better than I did how necessary it was to get my strength back, and quickly...I hadn't learned yet that they just killed those who couldn't work. Leah kept me alive for those first few days in the slave camp...and I'll always owe her for that.

* * *

Hercules paced the palace corridors like a caged animal, growing more restive, more impatient...more frightened...with each passing day. It had been two weeks...and there still had been no word, not a whisper, of anyone seeing, or hearing of, Iolaus, anywhere in Greece. Where was he? How could he have just disappeared without leaving any trace? Herc's heart twisted a little more each day...for awhile, he'd been afraid Iolaus might be dead...but, he wouldn't admit that fear, not even to himself. Jason and Iphicles did what they could to distract him...to offer a rough comfort...but, they, too, were losing hope of ever tracking the hunter.

Herc and Jason had decided it was better to wait in the palace, wait for the messengers they had sent out to bring back word, better to wait than charge all over Greece, without any real clue of what they were doing...of where Iolaus might be. But, Hercules was tired of waiting. And, he was filled with a cold fury toward his relatives. One of them had made Iolaus leave....and all of them must know where he was. He couldn't stay here any longer, passively hoping for word. It was time to take action, any action. He had to find Iolaus.

A feeling of dread had been crawling over his skin for days now, getting worse with every passing moment. He knew that feeling...Iolaus was in trouble, serious trouble. The good news was that it meant Iolaus was alive, somewhere...the bad news was Herc was certain Iolaus was in deadly danger...was hurt...and needed help...needed it now. He couldn't just wait here any longer...he had to find Iolaus...there was no more time to waste.

Hercules stopped by Iph's private office on his way out of the palace. It was late afternoon, and he knew they'd think him crazy to not wait until morning...but, he just couldn't stay put any longer, he had to move. Gratefully, he noted that Jason was also there when he entered...he wouldn't have to look for him, to explain he was going and why. They both looked up at him, the concern in their eyes giving way to a question when they saw the set expression on his face.

"I have to leave," Herc said, sounding weary and determined at the same time.

"Leave?" echoed Iphicles. "Where are you going?"

Herc shrugged, realizing he hadn't consciously decided...but then, he knew. "I'm heading to Heph's forge...I'm going to make him and 'Dite tell me where Iolaus is...they must know and I'm tired of them ignoring my calls to them."

Jason stood, putting a hand on Herc's shoulder, to stay him, understanding Hercules' frustration, but trying to get him to be reasonable, "It's too late to head anywhere today, Hercules...wait until morning...and I'll go with you."

Hercules just shook his head. He wanted to move fast, and he suspected he'd be travelling a fair distance...wherever Iolaus was, he wasn't close by. Jason wouldn't be able to keep up with him...and he felt too much urgency to slow his pace to Jason's. "No...I have to go now....and, Jason, I'm sorry...but...I have to go alone. I can't explain it...but I know Iolaus is in trouble...I have to find him."

Jason and Iph just studied his determined face and knew there was no point in arguing...and while neither of them had ever understood how he did it, Hercules always knew when Iolaus was in danger, or hurt. So, they knew they couldn't stop him...and, knowing time might be running out for Iolaus, they didn't want to. Both nodded quietly and Herc turned to the door. He heard Iph call after him, "Good luck, brother!" as he almost ran down the long corridor and out of the palace, heading north. He felt driven...there was no more time to waste.

Hercules was beside himself with fear for Iolaus. He'd been having nightmares ever since the first time he'd slept after Iolaus had left...terrible visions of Iolaus beaten and hurt, overwhelmed with pain, held captive somewhere, unable to get away. And the feeling of dread which had grown over the past several days was all consuming...like a fire on his skin, a vise around his heart. The only times it had ever been this bad before, Iolaus had been in grave danger of dying.

Herc fought to keep his breathing steady...the anxiety, the panic, would only slow him down. But, he couldn't push it aside. Finally, he stumbled to a halt, on a high ridge of the isthmus which looked out over the Aegean. The sun was setting behind him and the sky to the east was already a dark indigo. Looking out over the sea, to the stars beginning to blossom in the eastern sky, Herc stood with tears in his eyes and an overpowering grief in his heart. Iolaus was suffering ... and it was his fault.

Herc collapsed to his knees by the side of the empty road, tears blinding him now. "Please, Father...please hear me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with guilt and despair. "If anything happens to Iolaus, because of what I know he's done for me....I won't be able to live with it." Hercules paused then, wanting to find the right words...the words which would move his wayward father to hear him, to help him. His words a desperate rush now, he continued, "I _beg_ you, _help me_ find him....I know he's in danger. Gods, Zeus, I need him...I can't stand this...please...hear me. I'll do anything..._anything_, I swear it...anything you ask of me...just, help me find him..._please_."

He listened, he hoped with all his heart for an answer. But, none came. Just the wind, picking up from the sea as night fell. Herc swallowed his despair, fought the anger he felt at the silence. Why would he think Zeus would help him now? When had his father ever been there when he'd really needed him? Standing, he turned again to race along the road north. Now, he welcomed the fire of dread along his skin...it meant Iolaus was still alive. So long as he felt it, there was time. If no one could help him....would help him... he'd find Iolaus himself. Hercules pushed away the treacherous thoughts, the 'what if's'... 'what if you're too late?'... 'what if he's hurt so bad you can't help him?'.... No. He couldn't, wouldn't give up hope. He'd find Iolaus. He had to.

* * *

Herc ran for the rest of the day and all of the night, but, even at the killing pace he kept, it still took him that long and almost another day until he finally reached the volcano that housed Hephaestus' forge. Hercules strode into the cave entrance, only to face the snarling golden metallic panther which guarded Heph's domain.

"Hephaestus!" Hercules shouted, after he had snarled back at the panther, "call off your cat before I shatter him into little pieces!"

Heph materialized in front of him, and waved his 'pet' away. He'd known, as soon as he heard the angry, impatient shout, why Hercules had come. "I can't tell you where he is, Hercules," he said, the regret clear in his eyes and voice.

Herc glared at him for a long minute. "You have to," he said quietly. "He's in trouble...I know it...I have to find _him_...."

Heph shook his head, as he silently turned to limp back through his caverns. Hercules followed him, unwilling to give up. "Come on, Hephaestus...you have to help me...you and Aphrodite owe Iolaus...you have to help him...."

Herc knew there was a pleading note in his voice, but he didn't care. He'd go down into the Abyss of Chaos and beg Hera, if that's what it took to find Iolaus. He didn't need much...just a hint, a clue...but, he needed _something_ to point him in the right direction.

Heph just kept walking, and when he entered his forge, he took tongs and pulled a livid strip of metal from the fire, picked up a hammer and started to pound the almost molten iron upon his anvil. Herc watched him, and waited...he wasn't going to leave until he got an answer...and he was pretty sure Heph would tell him something before long. As gods went, Heph was one of the few either he or Iolaus could honestly think of as a friend....they'd been close, long ago, when they were younger. And, Iolaus had brought 'Dite to him... Heph had never stopped being grateful for that.

Finally, after long minutes, Hephaestus stopped hammering, and sighed. "He doesn't want to see you, Hercules ...he's afraid of seeing you...."

Herc pulled Heph around to face him. "Afraid? Why would he be afraid of me?"

Heph's eyes slid away. "He's not afraid of you...he's afraid of what might happen....."

Hercules felt a rising impatience. He hated it when gods spoke in riddles, hoarding information. "And, what might happen, Heph? ....Tell me!" he grated, as he gripped Heph's shoulders more tightly.

Hephaestus shook his head again...the rules...he wasn't supposed to interfere in another god's actions... especially not in Zeus' actions. Herc shook him a little, in mounting frustration. "Look, you must all know that I've figured it out...that Iolaus has made some kind of bargain for my sake..." Heph just stood there, his eyes refusing to meet Herc's, and he still didn't speak. "So, what's the worst that could happen if I find him...if I make him admit to what he's done for me...?"

Heph's eyes came back, found Herc's, gazed into them. "Why would Iolaus do anything in his power to stay away from you, Hercules? What would make him do that?" Heph asked...maybe he couldn't tell what he knew outright, but he could ask leading questions...he was balanced on a fine line, and he knew it.

Hercules frowned, thinking about it...knowing Heph was trying to help him, the only way he could. "If he thought he was some kind of risk to me, he'd stay away...."

Heph just continued to gaze at him...his steady silence confirming Herc's words, then he gave the merest nod as he pulled himself from Herc's restraining grip and turned back to his forge. "I'm sorry, Hercules...I can't tell you where he is...and, I'm sorry, you're right, he is in a lot of trouble...but, he's strong...I'm sure he'll endure. Time will eventually heal his wounds...and yours." Hephaestus' voice was weary...and he wished he could feel more confident about the assurances he was offering.

A frustrated, muted, half cry, half groan pushed itself through Herc's clenched throat...his heart twisting as he heard Heph's words. "Please, Heph...give me something...don't abandon him...." Hercules rasped desperately, begging for some help, anything to give him a place to start.

_Time_. Zeus had demanded a year...but, even Zeus had not foreseen Iolaus would spend the year in the brutal slave pit at Meteora. There were bets on Olympus about whether or not the small, blond warrior would survive....not many were betting that he would. Heph had bet on Iolaus...but, it was a sucker's bet, and he knew it. Still, if Hercules found him...but, no. Zeus had demanded the year...so a year had to be paid. Still...maybe...if Hercules found him, Iolaus would at least live, to spin out the rest of his year of sacrifice in a less dangerous environment.

Heph kept his back to Hercules, but, as he raised his hammer, he said, "I can't tell you where he is...I can't help you...none of us can. It's best if you just go back to doing what you do best...fighting warlords, and slavers...saving people who need you...need your strength...." And, Heph brought the hammer down onto the cooling metal, splintering it into a thousand pieces, wishing he could do the same to the rules which bound him.

Hercules stared at Heph's hunched back. Slavers. Warlords. There were hundreds of them scattered around Greece...it wasn't enough information...not if Iolaus was in trouble...not if he needed help now. "You have to give me more, Heph...please...." he whispered in desperation.

Heph just shook his head. Without turning, he murmured, "I can't tell you, Hercules...you'll just have to follow your heart...follow where Iolaus leads you....."

Herc gazed at Heph's back, the despair clear in his eyes. Follow his heart...gods, if only he could....where Iolaus leads..._where Iolaus leads_...and then a spark lit in his eyes. "North," he breathed.

Heph didn't turn, didn't say another word. Herc took a step closer to him, laid a strong hand on the god's shoulder, "Thanks, Heph," he said softly, with heartfelt gratitude.

Hephaestus shrugged, "For what? I haven't told you anything...but, you'd better hurry....."

Herc gave a sharp nod, and then he was racing from the cavern....racing away from Heph's stronghold, and the village of Cillabos in the valley below...racing north. He understood this quest to find Iolaus held some risk for him...it made sense, explained why Iolaus had made himself disappear...Iolaus would stay away from him, if he thought being near Hercules would be harmful for his best friend. But, Hercules was more than ready to face that risk, whatever it was....Iolaus needed him...Herc had to find him.

* * *

Zeus had not been as oblivious to Hercules' pleas, as Herc had thought. He'd heard every prayer, every heartwrenching request for help...Zeus had always regretted the pain his son had to bear...had wished, more than once, that he could violate his own rules, to save his son some of the anguish he suffered in his life. For all of his feigned cool indifference, Zeus truly loved Hercules...loved him more than any other being.

Now Zeus was discovering it was even harder to ignore Hercules' pleas when it had been Zeus, himself, who had set up the situation which was causing such terrified despair. He sighed. He wasn't about to explain this to Hercules. A year...he'd said it had to be a year...and, for Iolaus, it would be a year. But, Zeus had done what he could to ensure that, for Hercules, the time would be considerably shorter. So, he ignored his son's pleas...and he smiled over the bets the gods were placing. The game was rigged.... Hephaestus and Aphrodite were going to clean up! And, Zeus was the only one who knew it.

Oh, and the Fates of course. They hadn't been pleased to see him when he'd visited them the night Iolaus had walked away from the little healer's cottage in the hillside village. They didn't like him messing about with their work...Clotho told him it risked the entire tapestry...Lachesis mumbled that he didn't know what he was doing...while Atropos just watched him carefully, wondering what he was up to now. But, he just smiled charmingly, and wandered over to find the bright golden threads he was seeking...the two threads which twined around one another, sometimes so tightly as to appear to be a single, thicker yarn, in the weave of the tapestry of life.

The Fates cast knowing looks at one another. They could have predicted these would be the threads which would draw Zeus' attention. They hadn't forgotten the mess he'd made when he had arbitrarily turned back time, oh about ten years ago now. He might be the King of the Gods, but he did _not_ understand the delicacy, the detail and nuance of their work. But, he was King of the Gods, and while he might act charmingly, and ask nicely, they knew they had little choice to grant his wishes. Fortunately, he did not meddle in their work often...and when he did lately, say in the last hundred years or so, it was always to play with these two threads. Hercules and Iolaus, bound together for life....providing, of course, that Iolaus didn't go and get himself killed again when it wasn't yet his time. Gods, cleaning up after him had become an almost fulltime job!

But, just a little while earlier, Lachesis had seen Hercules' thread start to fray alarmingly. This was a surprise...his thread had always been the more durable of the two...but, now, it was tearing badly. Atropos had watched it, reluctantly deciding it wasn't going to hold much longer...that she would have to make the cut soon. So, they really hadn't been surprised when Zeus had dropped in unannounced...and uninvited.

Zeus found the spot he was looking for...a year in Iolaus' life...the next year, to be specific. Gently, carefully, he pulled the thread out from the weave, teasing it ever so gently, so as not to break it by accident. He needed it whole for the adjustments he was about to make. Once he had the year's length of thread, he looped it, bringing the end close to the beginning, to ensure the cuts would be in the right place.

Yes, this would do nicely. Turning, he waved Atropos over. "I need your help, my dear, to create a small change...to make a small repair."

Atropos frowned. What was he up to this time?

"Come here," he urged, "come closer, so I can show you what I would like you to do."

Reluctantly, she sidled over to stand beside the imposing figure of Zeus. "You know, of course, who these threads belong to?" he queried.

She nodded briskly...he was dangerously near to being insulting...as if anyone of them wouldn't know exactly who belonged to each thread in the tapestry...and harrumphed in displeasure at the question.

Zeus merely smiled gently, "Ah, how foolish of me...of course you know...well, you see here, Hercules' thread needs a little reinforcement just now."

All three of the Fates nodded at that...it was exactly the observation they had made earlier.

"Good! Well, what I want you to do, Atropos, is clip this little bit out of Iolaus' thread...just here and here," Zeus demonstrated, "so that we can use that bit of his thread to bind the life line of Hercules more securely, bind up the frayed bits, and make it whole again."

"You can't be serious!" Atropos gasped, forgetting to whom she was speaking. "This isn't done...it's never been done..." she continued, flustered.

Zeus' eyes hardened for a moment causing all three to quail a bit. Apparently, he was serious. _Very_ serious. But, then, the charming, reassuring grin reappeared, to settle them down. He needed steady hands for this work. Best if they weren't shivering in terror. "Ah, well, yes, I know. But...Iolaus has given me permission for this little repair...so, there's no reason it can't be done. It's not as if I'm stealing time or strength from him...he's given it willingly."

"Well, I suppose..." Atropos allowed, looking toward her sisters for their views about this. Clothos, of course, nodded briskly...she'd always found Zeus too charming by half. Lachesis was clearly thinking about it...thinking there was no point in saying no...and thinking there was no real harm. Hercules' thread was dangerously frayed...and needed repair. What better thread to use than the one which twined with his naturally as it was. She nodded.

Atropos turned back. "You do know this will have a terrible impact on Iolaus..." she shuddered...two cuts to the thread would drain the life force from him.

Zeus nodded gravely. He knew the price Iolaus would pay. "But...if I understand it, so long as we twine the cut ends back together, he can't actually die...he will survive...and he will be strong again?" Despite himself, there was a question in his voice. If this hadn't been done before, then no one could really know for sure what effect it would have on the Hunter.

Atropos frowned as she took the delicate thread from Zeus' hands and reaffirmed just exactly where he wanted the cuts. From a moment two weeks from now....to another fifty one weeks ahead. Zeus nodded...this was exactly the amount of thread he needed to bind up Hercules' line. Atropos picked up her knife and took a deep breath. "When I have taken the full piece out, you must move quickly to bind it into Hercules' frayed cord...leave the repair of this one to me. It must be done with delicate speed...otherwise, we might lose him. These cuts are, after all, deaths, however temporary."

Zeus nodded, and held the narrow band of thread, between the two points of planned separation, with his thumb and forefinger. He was ready. Atropos blinked once, her two sisters held their breath, and she cut...once...twice. Zeus took the severed bit of thread, and quickly, looped and threaded it around Hercules' lifeline, binding it securely, covering all the frayed bits.

Meanwhile, Atropos bent to her task, Lachesis beside her to help if need be. With nimble fingers she bound the severed edges together, bringing the loop of Iolaus' life, the year he would live, back to join at the place a scant four weeks from now. The edges were rough though, the binding tight. Lachesis examined the knot closely, afraid they had not left enough thread to weave together properly. Her lips thinned...if it would just hold past the break, hold for at least three weeks, maybe a little more...say four weeks...Iolaus would be past the danger point...and would live. Time would tell.

Unbeknownst to the others, Clotho had bent to her spindle, catching up a new delicate thread of gold she had been spinning quietly, and hiding, a long piece at a time, on a spool she kept hidden in her pocket. Since the first time Zeus had intervened, she had wondered if he would ever let this mortal die...or whether he would someday decide Hercules needed his friend beside him for as long as he lived...and, so far as the threads showed now, Hercules might well live forever. So...she'd crafted extra lengths of gold when the others weren't paying attention...in case they'd be needed some day. Of course, having them wasn't enough...her sisters would have to agree to their use...and this, ultimately, would depend upon Zeus. Time would tell.

* * *

Surprisingly, I'd kept my head down, and my mouth shut, more or less, for more than a week now. Didn't have much choice, to be honest, with a twisted knee, untold number of cracked ribs, arms that felt as if they'd been practically torn from my shoulders and a concussion that made me throw up every time I turned my head too fast. I wasn't much of a threat to the guards...and no help to the slaves. The grueling work in the quarry, under the hot sun, with not enough water, and nothing but the thin, putrid mush they served as food, didn't exactly help me regain my strength quickly. I was a mess...and, from the way my chest felt, I was pretty sure I was getting worse. The fever was a clue, too, but mostly I ignored it. I could only handle so much bad news at a time, and the fever was the least of my troubles.

But, somehow, I did manage to work. Leah made me wake up every morning....and, that wasn't easy, let me tell you. My body really just wanted to sleep...and so did my aching head. But, I knew she was right...she'd explained to me what they did with retired workers...saved a lot in pension money, I'm sure. I'd stumble out to the quarry, lift the hammer and chisel, and work away at the marble. Numb, really, just hammered all day, helped others lift the heavy blocks onto wagons when I had to...but, gods, my ribs hated me for it...and we won't mention the comments made by my shoulders.

Sometimes I wondered why I kept going ...gods know, I'd hoped they'd kill me when they first caught me...and the emptiness inside, whenever I thought about Herc, had only gotten worse. But, then, I'd see Leah...or any of the other poor creatures trapped in that cruel servitude, and I knew why I had to survive...get strong again. I had to find a way to get the slaves to safety, which meant we'd have to kill at least some of the guards...all of them if need be.... Ridiculous you say? Maybe... but, not impossible.

There were about thirty slaves...not so many, I guess. Most of them were kids like Leah, not much older than her...all of them too thin, too bruised...with a haunted, frightened look always in their eyes. A few were adults, men and women worn to helpless despair, barely hanging on. They all wore torn, dirty rags...the backs tattered, shredded...from the whips. The thin, angry welts, some more healed than others, showed through the scraps of cloth. My vest gave me a bit more protection, but I'd felt the bite of the whip more than once that week, whenever I'd paused too long in my mindless hammering.

The guards were an impatient lot, filled with their own importance, drunk with their sense of power and control. But, there really weren't that many of them...only ten or so at a time. As the days went by, I counted twenty-three different ugly faces. What they did when they weren't keeping us in line, I neither knew nor cared. I did care that they were sloppy...I was glad of it.

I'd seen Gordius once, at a distance. A ghidra was better looking, let me tell you. The guy was hideous... his face scarred, maybe from a fire from the look of it...one eye patched. But, he looked strong, for all his bloated bulk. A twisted, evil, soulless man...who fed on the weakness of others like babies fed on milk... sucking it in...revelling in it. He'd probably have to die, too, I knew...he'd either come after us, or enslave other poor souls....he was beyond redemption.

The only question, was how? Oh yeah, and when?

To be honest, for more than a week I felt wasted, completely wasted. I couldn't remember ever having felt so weak before... stunned almost, dizzy, disoriented. I could tell Leah, and the others, were very worried about me, and I think their concern was what kept me going until some of my strength came back. But, I must have been out of it much of the time...when I think back, the whole year seems blurred...one day merging into another, the sameness of our dreary existence creating it's own disorientation.

I got through the first month, somehow, and I'd gradually gotten stronger. Time stretched endlessly in front of me. Gods...was this the way I was going to spend the next year? I hardly got dizzy at all any more...just lightheaded, but that was the fever, so it wasn't serious...chronic but not serious. My arms and shoulders were better...I decided to just ignore my chest...and the blood I had started to cough up from time to time, but only every five minutes or so. Just an annoyance...minor really... nothing to worry about... it would get better...or it wouldn't. I was concerned that the scrapes and cuts from being dragged didn't seem to want to heal...couldn't be because it seemed that every time they'd be almost better, some guard or other would decide it was my turn to be the example that week...and they'd take turns beating me into the sharp shale of the quarry floor, reopening half healed wounds. Yeah, sure, I fought back...but, it only delayed the inevitable, and if anything, made the punishment they doled out to me worse. Why couldn't I ever learn to just stand and take it...why did I always have to mouth off and fight back? Gods, I'm a slow learner some times.

I don't honestly know how I survived the first few months. The only thing which kept me going was my determination to help Leah. Gods, she was a great kid...and she was growing up, right before my eyes. I'd taken to sharing my portion of our daily allotment of mush with her and a couple of the other kids. Truth was, I just never seemed to be hungry...and they were growing, they needed the nourishment more than I did. It was amazing to see, really...the strength of the mortal body and spirit. Here they were, underfed, overworked, whipped regularly...and still their bodies grew taller, filled out, changed...mostly, I think, because their spirits never gave up. Hope and imagination are fine things...sometimes, the ability to imagine a better future, and to sustain the hope that it could come true, are all that keep us going, when the now is too much to bear.

So, we hammered and chiselled at the rock by day, loading cart after cart with the stone we pried from the wall and hauled from the quarry, out through a natural tunnel, which separated it from the world beyond... and conserved our energy, sleeping as much as possible, by night. The seasons shifted...and, this far north, it started to get cold. Really cold. Five months ago, I would never have believed I'd miss the blinding, relentless heat of the sun that burned us ruthlessly, mercilessly. And, with the cold, came a perpetual drizzle. It was miserable, let me tell you...and dangerous, too. It made our hands numb, so hammers and chisels could slip, causing injuries...made the ground slick, so that we could lose our footing when hauling the heavy stone....

An accident was inevitable, I guess. But, that doesn't make the memory of it any easier to bear. It wasn't anyone's fault...accidents never are. There's no one to blame for the tragedy...just the gods, I suppose. But, I find I can't even hold them responsible for all the bad luck in the world.

It had been raining all day...a thin, miserable, cold, continuous weeping from the clouds that hung low over the pinnacles of Meteora. The dust had turned to mud, and the shale was as slick as ice. Three of us were maneouvring a particularly awkward and heavy boulder up into the wagon...gods, it must have weighed more than twice what any one of us weighed at the time...we were all worn to skin and bone.

We almost had that beast of a boulder tilted enough to lever it into the wagon, when Gerash slipped. Poor kid. Baldros and I tried to hold it...but, it was too much. Gerash couldn't get his feet back under him...and Baldros, desperate to save his brother, shifted his grip, wanting to reach out to drag Gerash out of danger. That did it...the boulder tilted and slipped...then crashed...crushing the two of them into the cold mud.

Gods...they screamed in agony. I don't think I'll ever forget it. I tried to lift the damn stone, but it was too much for me. I yelled at the guard to help me, but, he just stood there and stared at them. I guess it was only seconds...it felt like longer, a lot longer. Then, casually, as if there was no hurry, he sauntered over, drew his sword...and cut both their throats, mumbling, "They're of no more use....."

I felt frozen by the horror of it. All I could see was their life blood mingling with the mud. Such a waste...they were just kids. And, then, the rage poured through me. Screaming, I launched myself at him, first kicking him back, then spinning to knock him from his feet...he landed hard, his head connecting solidly with another large boulder waiting it's turn to be loaded. And, he just laid there...I didn't know if he was dead or unconscious, nor did I care.

I could have run then...I don't know if I'd have gotten far, it had all happened so fast. There were no other guards there...but, they might be on their way from the quarry, to check out the reason for the short, sharp screaming they had heard...or they might not. I could have run...I could have gotten away. To be honest, I turned to go...but...Leah was back there. I'd promised to get her out of this. How could I abandon her now? I couldn't do it...I couldn't go.

Instead, I fell to my knees by the bodies of my friends. They'd just been kids...now, neither of them would ever reach twenty. The guards found me there, stroking Gerash's dark hair, tears streaming from my face. When they saw their fallen comrade, they clubbed me first, and checked him after. I guess it was a good thing he wasn't dead...it meant my punishment for resistance was only a whipping.

They beat me with the handles of their whips, and the hilts of their swords, kicked me until I was sure my ribs were broken again. Then, they hauled me back into the quarry, tying my hands high above me, on the pole that stood in the centre of that rocky wasteland. They whipped me until I passed out, then cut the rope binding me to the pole, letting my body fall into the mud....my blood mingling with the rain, as it poured to the earth under me....or, at least, that's what Leah told me.

The slaves carried me back into the cave that night, after I had lain in the cold rain and mud for hours. The guards wouldn't let them care for me until the day's shift was done. Bastards. All of them. I'm not a killer by nature...it takes a lot to make me wish others dead. But, I wanted them dead...and, from that day, I watched and waited for the moment to take revenge for Gerash and Baldros...and for all the other petty tortures and humiliations, for all the abuse they heaped upon all of the slaves. I didn't know if I'd be able to kill all of them...but, I'd take out some, before they took me down.

But, first, I had to recover from the whipping. Had to fight back the chronic fever which surged up, threatening to burn out what spirit I had left. Had to fight the coughing that came with what felt like pneumonia. Had to fight the pain and dizziness everyday, to get up when Leah came to drag me back to consciousness. Had to work in that damn quarry. You know, I _loathe_ marble...I suspect I always will.

The days passed, and I got better... and I watched the guards, gauging when to make a move. They didn't take me any more seriously than they took the other slaves...I guess my small size fooled them...and, to be honest, I think I looked sorta pitiful...you know, scraped and bruised, beaten and feverish, shaky and staggering and half dead on my feet. It was just an act... just to get them to let their guard down. At least, that's my story...and I'm sticking to it.

I watched and waited...but, an opportunity to fight back...to fight back and win, not just fight back and be killed quickly, uselessly, was a long time coming. We shivered through that miserable winter, until we began to think blue was a natural colour for trembling fingers and feet numb with cold. I couldn't seem to shake the fever...my back had gotten infected, and it took a long time to get over that. Gods, this was turning into the longest year of my life...and I was beginning to seriously wonder if I was going to survive it. Somedays, I wasn't sure I still cared....and then Leah would make a salve for my back, and I'd remember my promise to her. Somehow, I had to get her away...safe...far from the misery and terror of that godsforsaken quarry.

The weeks slipped into spring...and then it was summer again...with the brutal heat of the blinding sun. I thought I'd been getting stronger again. I'd been working out at night, practicing the moves I'd learned in the East, making sure I'd be ready when the opportunity came. And, it would come. It had to come. The year was almost over....I couldn't face another year of this servitude, and another. I couldn't let Leah, or the others, have to endure that either. For the first time in months, I began to feel that I could do this...I could force an opportunity if one didn't soon come...I could take on the guards...there were only ten of them after all. I was stronger...the fever had almost completely disappeared. To this day, I don't know what happened.

We'd just come back into the cave after another long, endless day breathing dust, sweating like pigs in the ovenlike heat. I had turned to say something to Leah, to tease her about getting so pretty that even the quarry life couldn't hide her charms...and, I remember, I saw her blush...embarrassed and pleased all at the same time. And that was it. I felt incredible pain and collapsed, boneless to the ground. She dropped down beside me, shook me...and all I could do was look up at her...I couldn't speak...couldn't reach up to wipe away her panicked tears. And, then, it all went black.

Leah told me I'd stopped breathing. Desperate, she'd pounded on my chest, screamed at me to wake up. Somehow, I know, she saved my life again...I just don't know why I almost died. I faded in and out all night long, everything spinning around me, everything blurred and confusing. When dawn finally came, it was all she could do to get me back on my feet and support me back into the quarry. Gods...I was back where I'd started. I hadn't felt this bad since just after they'd dragged me into this hellhole. It was very weird...and very, very scary.

So, I started again, struggling against the weakness, fighting a desire to just give up. I'd get better...I had to...there was no other choice. But, I was afraid. I was terrified of what had happened...terrified that if I did not act soon, I might never be able to act at all. So, I fought the weakness, and the fever that surged again through my wasted body. One day at a time. I'd lost track of how long I'd been a slave. Musta been close to a year by then...maybe longer. There was no way to tell, except by the season...it was almost as hot everyday now, as when I'd first gotten here. Musta been close to a year ago. Oddly, I found the fever was a help, the chills kept me from frying in the hot, relentless sun....and let me ignore the insipient signs of sunstroke. Really, the fever helped a lot.

So, I was getting better...

Yeah, if I'd only been able to stay out of trouble for another day or so... 'if only' ...sigh...the story of my life. But, what other choice did I have? One of the ugly brutes, the biggest one of the lot of them, noticed Leah had changed...grown up. The bastard decided he was a lecher as well as a run of the mill sadist, and took it into his head that he just had to have Leah. Well, I couldn't let that pass, now could I?

When I tore into him, screeching like some maniac to take his hands off her, Leah tried to pull me away, tried to tell me it was alright, that it wasn't the first time...but, that information really didn't help calm me down. When? How had I let that happen to her? Must have been when I was out of my head with fever...gods...how could I have not known she was being hurt that way? I wanted to kill the brute so bad, I could taste it. I kicked and pummelled him...and I'd actually gotten my hands around his throat when two other heroes dragged me off him, clubbing me with the handles of their whips. When I finally sagged, the fight drummed out of me for the moment, they kicked in my ribs, again, then hauled me off to the post in the centre of the quarry and tied me to it, my arms stretched high over my head. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention they'd stripped my vest from my back...they'd learned long ago that it just got in the way of their whips.

I didn't bother counting the lashes that ripped into me, tearing the skin from my back. I just gritted my teeth, determined not to cry out...how else could I fight back but deny their satisfaction of hearing me scream in agony? I kept my eyes locked on Leah, saw her tears and regretted them. This wasn't her fault. There was no sound in the hot inferno of the quarry. The slaves stood and watched silently, wincing with each lash. No sound but the snap of the whip against my back. I passed out finally...but, Leah told me later that they'd kept whipping me for a long, long time after. She said they'd seemed surprised they hadn't killed me when they finally released my arms, letting me fall into a heap in the dust, my blood nourishing the parched earth. She didn't tell me, but I'm pretty sure they kicked me a couple of times for good measure...my ribs definitely were not happy and, if anything, hurt even more than my back...but, it's hard, really, to remember little details like that.

I woke up a long time after, lying on my stomach in the cavern. Someone was carefully bathing my damaged back. Twisting my head, I saw it was Leah, and saw the fresh bruises on her cheek. She really was an angel...even after what must have happened to her, she'd pushed that hurt aside to care for me. She'd made a paste from some aloe she'd found growing in a cleft of the rocks and was carefully smoothing it over my wounds...the coolness was soothing against my hot skin, and it took some of the hurt away.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, simply, when she realized I was conscious. I would have told her to forget it...it was nothing...less than nothing. I hadn't been able to protect her...so much for my empty promises...but, I didn't have the strength to talk yet. 'Tomorrow,' I thought, drifting away again, 'I'll tell her tomorrow...no need...to thank...me.....' I drifted in and out, all night long. I felt almost as if I was floating at one point...ethereal...completely insubstantial. Crazy. The pain was real enough. Leah told me later, when I was stronger, that she'd thought I'd stopped breathing again for a bit of time...she'd thought, for that long moment, that I was never going to breathe again...but, then, she was really just a kid, a terrified, lost kid, and probably imagined it all.

I don't know how she got me up the next day, how she got me to move. I really didn't think I could walk...hell, I didn't think I could breathe. But, she was determined and wouldn't let me lie there, enjoying a restful sleep. It was the small matter of the guards watching, hungrily, waiting for the excuse to finish me off, that convinced her to drag me to my feet...and convinced me to stay on them, once she got me upright. Leaning on her, I limped back to the quarry, back into the remorseless sunlight. Gods, didn't it ever rain in this part of Greece when it was hot? That cold rain of five or six months ago would be a relief on a day like this.

Somehow, I managed to pick up the hammer...thank the gods, none of the other slaves would let me help hoist the blocks of marble into the waiting wagons that day. They were as silent as usual, acted as if they were ignoring me...but, when I stumbled, there was always a helping hand, pulling me back up. When I was almost out on my feet, someone would bring a waterskin, pouring the brackish liquid down my throat... pouring some of the precious water over my head to rouse me further. When the day finally ended, I found myself between two of the other slaves, Lucius and Samos, boys really, a couple of years older than Leah...and they supported me back to the cavern...half carried, half dragged, me actually, because I'd gone past being able to stand, let alone walk. Between them all, they again kept me alive for the next couple of days, until I was more aware of what was going on...the fog of pain and misery muffling my mind less dense.

Regrettably, the fever hadn't gotten any better...I reluctantly acknowledged it had actually gotten worse as I shook with the chills. My back had gotten infected, despite Leah's best efforts...sigh...I've always been too prone to infection. Don't know why, really....I just don't seem to have a whole lot of natural resistance. Couldn't have been the broken ribs, the open wounds all over my body, the filth, the starvation diet and brackish water...the body destroying labour of slaving in a quarry for a year...nah...I just seem to catch infection easily...always have. Oh, and the cough was back, bringing with it the taste of blood on my lips. Yeah, I was in great shape...just great.

I was aware, sort of, that my mind was having a tendency to wander off on its own...it was getting hard to even want to pull it back, because it kept finding pathways back to my memories of Herc....and I was coughing up even more blood than usual. But, after a day or so, I was better, really...well, I guess you just had to be there. Take my word for it...I was getting better. So much better, in fact, that I was sure I wouldn't die for at least a couple more days.

I'd come to understand that I wasn't going to be able to rescue the others...I didn't have the strength left. It had been too much abuse, for too long...my body was quitting on me. But, I could take out the worst of the bastards before I went...I just had to get a little steadier on my feet...just a little stronger. Not much...just a little. Gods, I hated to leave them to this miserable existence ...hopeless and helpless. If I couldn't save them, then they'd have to save themselves.

I talked to them, then, about the need for us to fight back...we'd all have to fight, if we were ever to escape this waking death...and, we could escape, I told them...we outnumbered the guards...and they didn't expect any resistance. It could be done. They all just regarded me silently, as if I was out of my head, delirious with fever. Maybe I was. Must have been, to think these wasted children and broken adults could fight strong, trained, soulless guards and win. We'd die...they knew it...even if it seemed I didn't. But, I knew we'd die anyway...wouldn't it be better to try to escape, better to die that way, than like caged, abused, animals?

* * *

Hercules had headed north, and three days later found himself in the village of Trikala, not far from Karpenissi, in the heart of Thessaly. He was near the place they called Meteora...after the eerie grey rock formations that seemed unearthly, as if they had come from the sky, and were stretching themselves back into the clouds, trying to to return to the heavens. For days, every step of the way, he'd asked any locals he came across if they knew of any slavers or warlords in the area. He'd tried to come up with a subtle way of asking, but there wasn't one really...and he didn't have time to engage in long winded, circuitous conversations to tease out the information. So, he just asked. When people looked at him with surprise and answered openly that, no, there weren't, he nodded, accepting their answers and carried on, still heading north.

But, when he asked his questions in Trikala, eyes shifted, people shrugged, turned away. And, he knew he was close.

Forcing himself to project a calm he didn't feel, Hercules ambled into the local tavern and leaned back on the bar, surveying the dingy, dark room. Once his eyes had adjusted from the shock of leaving the bright sunlight outside, he turned to the bartender and waved him over, asking for an ale.

The bartender nodded, but didn't meet his eyes, nor did he speak. Odd....Herc hadn't thought he'd ever meet a taverner who wasn't curious about any stranger who passed through, hungry for gossip, for any news from the outside world. Herc took a swallow of the warm ale, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Hot day," he observed mildly.

The man behind the bar just nodded and made as if to move away...but, Herc reached out, a light hand on the man's arm...though his grip promised to hold with more strength, if needed. Startled, uneasy, the man met Herc's eyes for the first time. "I'm looking for a friend," Hercules explained softly, keeping his voice low, under the louder hum of the conversation in the room behind him. "I think he may be...a slave...in a mine, or quarry near by."

He felt the man shiver under his arm as his eyes scuttled away. "Don't know nothing about no quarry," the man mumbled, trying to pull his arm away...found he couldn't. Clearly frightened, he looked back into Herc's eyes, shifted his glance quickly to look at a couple of tough looking types at the table in the corner, then back at Hercules. "Please, whoever you are....I don't know anything about your friend."

Hercules cast a casual glance back over his shoulder and noted the presence of the mercenaries. His eyes got cold then, and his grip tightened enough to hurt, as he turned back to the bartender. "Maybe not...but, which way do I go to find this quarry that you don't know anything about?"

The man swallowed, pretended to wipe off the bar next to Hercules, as if that was why he was lingering by his side...Herc's bulk hid, from the eyes of the men behind him in the tavern, the fact he was holding the man's arm in a fearful, bruising grip. "Outside of town," the man mumbled through lips that didn't move, "just a little further north, cut into a plateau near one of the higher pinnacles...but, I wouldn't go there, if I was you...."

Herc released the man's arm, gave him a soft smile that didn't reach his eyes. Picking up his mug of ale, he murmured quietly, "Thanks," then drained the mug, threw a coin on the bar, and ambled out.

Hercules headed past the side of the tavern, north into the pinnacles of Meteora. Tilting his head up, shading his eyes, he studied them, looking for the higher ones. "I'm coming, Iolaus," he whispered, "I won't be long now."

Herc felt as if every muscle was tight, straining with the need to find his friend, to find him safe...aching with the need to hit someone for whatever they'd done to Iolaus. But, he fought his desire to hurry blindly, knowing a mistake now wouldn't help Iolaus...could only put him in more danger. Cautiously, Hercules moved up and over the rocky hills leading to the higher pinnacles beyond. He heard the sound of hammers long before he found the quarry, the ping and chink of the blows against the rock. Taking a deep breath, he stopped and listened, getting his bearings. Then, silently as a shadow, he moved toward the sound, climbing higher onto the plateau. He fought his impatience, his desire to rush madly in, now that he was so close. It took almost an hour, but, finally, he was standing on the edge of the high plateau, looking down into the quarry below.

Herc winced, his heart sinking, when he saw the pitiful wrecks of humanity. Thin to the point of emaciation, hunched hopelessly as they hammered or moved slowly in the shimmering heat of the quarry, covered in rags, he could see most were hardly more than kids. He felt an unholy rage fill his chest. Gods, he hated slavers ...and he hated the ones who took children the most of all. Swallowing the bile in his throat, forcing himself to pay attention, he scouted the rest of the area, noting the presence of the guards... no more than ten. Then, he felt his heart fill his throat, when he recognized the filthy, dust covered patchwork vest, the matted, once golden, hair, the burned skin he could see glowed a dull red even from this distance.

Herc watched Iolaus for a moment...and didn't like what he saw. His friend was favouring one side...and, when he coughed, it looked like he was on the edge of collapse, doubling over, one hand on the rock beside him, to keep himself on his feet. He watched as one of the kids, a girl from the look of her, surreptitiously brought Iolaus a waterskin, supporting him while he drank. Breathing heavily, Iolaus sagged against the rock face. The girl looked around as if she was frightened, then forced the hammer back into his hands, and turned him to face the cleft of rock, positioning him....helping him to raise the hammer. Gods...Iolaus looked like he was almost dead on his feet.

Herc scanned the area...and found a path down that looked like it would keep him hidden from the eyes of the guards until he wanted to make himself known.

* * *

Much as I hated to admit it to myself, I really wasn't sure how much longer I was going to last. I could taste the blood in the back of my throat...an ever present reality now. I was bleeding inside, and there was no point in denying it any longer...it wasn't getting better...it was getting worse. My ribs screamed with a hot tearing pain every time I moved...hell, every time I took a breath...so, I tried really hard not to breathe any more than absolutely necessary. I was burning up, I knew it...and knew I should be sweating in the hot summer sun...but, my skin was dry and tight with fever. My hands were shaking and my sight was blurring. When I collapsed this time, I wasn't going to get up again, no matter how hard Leah cajoled, or pulled, trying to drag me back onto my feet. I was done, wasted.

'Damn it!' I raged inside my head, 'I'm not going to give up...not without taking some of them with me...and I guess I'd better take them now....not sure I'll have another chance.' They'd kill me, I knew it...and I was disgusted with myself for not being stronger...not being able to help Leah or the others... whatever chances might have arisen in the months past, I'd either missed, or had been too incapacitated to act upon. Gods...I wasn't much good for anything anymore...maybe I never was. Maybe Herc had just made it all seem easy, carrying the load...carrying me. I was so far gone, I could almost feel his arms around me, supporting me...I could almost believe he was somewhere near by...but that was just the fever... I was losing it...would be hallucinating soon. Might as well get it over with...but, I still hesitated...it wasn't in my nature to kill with no warning, coldly, without feeling...even when I wanted to.

But, then I heard a muffled cry. Turning my head, I saw that animal grabbing Leah again...and the rage filled my soul. If I couldn't do anything else, I could protect her from this...from ever having to suffer his attentions again. I pushed myself away from the rockface, and stumbled over toward the brute, dragging my hammer behind me through the dust and shale...I might have just enough strength left to pick it up and swing it...but, I sure didn't have enough left to carry it. The arrogant cretin laughed when he saw me coming, pushing Leah away for the moment he figured it would take to deal with me...I wasn't any kind of threat...I knew he thought I was likely to just collapse at his feet, without needing any of his help to find the mercy of oblivion...and, truthfully, he wasn't far wrong.

When I came up to him, within arm's length, I stopped, breathing heavily, leaning on the hammer I had gripped in both hands in front of me. Looking up at him, I forced a wan smile...all I was capable of, I'm ashamed to say...I would have rather been able to laugh, but...that would only have made me cough...and, well, that wouldn't have been a good thing.

He laughed sadistically down at me, then rumbled in his best, threatening, 'I'm going to beat you to a pulp' voice, "Get back to work, shorty!"

"I really hate it...when someone...calls me..._shorty_!" I gasped out, tightening my grip on the hammer. Then, with a quick breath, I was spinning, pulling the hammer up, using it's weight to pull me around harder, faster, giving me momentum, as I lifted it and smashed it into his head. He dropped like a stone...dead before he hit the ground....a surprised look imprinted forever on his face. "Really," I muttered, "_really_ hate it...."

I heard a shout behind me, and staggered around to meet the guard coming at me, struggling to raise the hammer again...but, then Leah was there, tripping him, while one of the others clubbed him with a rock. And then, all Tarturus broke out! Screaming imprecations, pushed finally beyond their boundaries of pain and fear, the slaves turned on the guards, mobbing them, pelting them with rocks, hitting them with hammers and chisels. I'd started a revolt! Who would ever have imagined they'd fight? The guards were stunned into inaction for a moment...a short moment...by their amazement that these weakened, cowed creatures could actually turn on them...expecting to win. And, then they were fighting back.

I couldn't raise the hammer, so I gave up on it, and just spun and rolled, knocking another one coming at me from his feet, scrambling to smack him with a rock before he could get his breath back. Then, I was against the rock wall, using it's support to drag myself back up onto my feet, trying desperately not to lose myself in a coughing fit...not now...not yet. I felt as if the quarry was spinning around me, the screams and shouts pressing in upon my ears...blending together into a hideous noise. Panting, I braced myself for the next attack...but, the next guy was more careful, pulling out his sword...preparing to skewer me from a safe distance. Coward.

I knew I was going to die there, in the merciless dust of that hot hellhole. I thought, then, about Hercules...about how he'd never know what had happened to me...and I was sorry, so very sorry for the way I'd left him...the way I'd hurt him...somehow, that seemed far more real, more important, than the man who stood before me, preparing to impale me on his sword. 'Sorry, Herc,' I thought, preparing to lunge away from his thrust, even though I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to move fast enough to avoid the killing blow.

The guard was grinning in anticipation, thrusting his blade forward, and I was twisting to get out of the way, when, apparently from out of the cliff above me, I heard an anguished cry, "NOOOO!!!!", and then a raging, golden demigod fell upon the man, as if in answer to my unspoken, unconscious prayer.

"Hercules!" I shouted...or tried to shout...more a breathy whisper, really, as I slumped back against the rock behind me, staying out of his way.

Gods, it was great to see him in action one last time. There's no more glorious sight on earth, than a furious, righteous demigod battling the dark denizens of evil. Pitiful slaves we might have been, but we'd taken out four of the bastards on our own...the last six didn't have a chance. Spinning, Herc kicked two, hard, driving them headfirst into the quarry wall. Then, he grabbed another, and turned, rotating faster and faster, as he used the man as a living bludgeon, knocking three others into next week. Finished, he just let the guy in his hands go, letting him fly hard with the momentum of the spin, high against the quarry wall, where he crashed with a thud, then plummeted back to the ground.

Herc took a quick look around, making sure all the opposition had been accounted for, then turned to walk over to me. I could see the dark horror in his eyes when he looked at me...I guess I musta looked pretty bad. "What kept you?" I gasped, with the best grin I could manage. Gods...it was good to see him again... good to see two of him actually...I was having a bit of trouble focusing.

"You didn't leave very good directions," he murmured in return...moving closer, to lay a supportive hand on my shoulder.

"Sorry about that," I mumbled. "There's more of them, Herc...about fifteen maybe...and the warlord is a monster named Gordius...do something about him, would you?" I panted, in little more than a whisper...it really was hard to breathe... and, oddly, it was getting dark. Funny...I hadn't thought it was so late in the day.

"Iolaus?" I heard Hercules call me, as if from a long way away, from down a long tunnel....I was falling...and the last thing I remember, was the feel of his strong arms catching me, pulling me up against his chest. I was home...even if it was only for a little while...I was home. Sometimes the Fates are kind.

* * *

"_Iolaus_!" Hercules cried again, as he caught his friend and lifted him. Iolaus was little more than skin and bones in his arms, a feather weight, nothing of his usual solidity...and it terrified Hercules. How had his friend become so wasted in such a short time...as if he'd been enslaved for months, not weeks. Hercules had seen the trickle of blood from the corner of Iolaus' mouth, and heard his panting, harsh breathing, catching then twisting his unconscious friend into a painful spasm of coughing...Herc felt the burning heat of Iolaus' skin... it all told a grim story.

Turning, knowing they all had to get away, before any more guards showed up, desperate with fear for the life of his friend, Hercules found himself facing a circle of dustcovered, grimfaced wraithes, many of them holding the swords and knives they had confiscated from the bodies of the guards....Preoccupied with Iolaus, Hercules had not noticed how they had silently killed any who had still been breathing when they took their weapons from them. None of them were natural killers, and they would all be haunted by their actions...but, this was survival...they didn't have much choice.

Leah stepped forward, touching his arm, as she looked up into his wild eyes. "This way," she said quietly, as she pulled a little on his arm, leading him to the tunnel which led from the hidden quarry to the wagons beyond. Herc laid Iolaus in one of the wagons, Leah climbing up to support his buddy's head. One of the men climbed into the box and took the reins, while the others paced along side with Hercules. They were weak, yes, but not quitters...they'd fight again, if they had to.

They didn't know who this stranger was...but, Iolaus had seemed glad to see him...and he'd arrived just in time to save all of their sorry lives. So, they would follow him...follow his lead. Maybe, just maybe, they really had a chance to get away...to survive the wild, crazy uprising...a chance to live free again. Maybe.

The man on the wagon slapped the reins and called softly to the horses, getting them moving, turning them to the northeast...heading into the hills around them....away from the guards who were sure to follow. But, it was early afternoon...and no new guards would show up for at least three hours. They had a little time, thanks to the careless confidence of their keepers, the arrogant certainty, that they'd never escape...never even try.

Herc kept an eye on Iolaus as the wagon lurched up into the hills, into the cover of the forests there. Each tilt and bang of the wagon wheels, as they knocked against, up and over the rocks in the uneven terrain, seemed to be a blow against his partner's body. Iolaus moaned unconsciously...lost in the fever and pain. Finally, Herc couldn't stand it any longer. Calling to the driver to stop, he reached into the wagon, and pulled Iolaus against him, lifting his friend out, to cradle him in his arms.

"I'll carry him," he explained to Leah, seeing the surprised look on her face. "It'll be easier on him...." and he turned to continue climbing higher into the forest. They left the wagon then...it really only slowed them down...but, they took the horses. And they kept their weapons.

Hours later, they came to a fast moving, deep stream, that flowed sharply down the slope, from the heights of the snowcapped mountain above them. It was a cool, shaded place...quiet, almost like a sanctuary. The rock wall rose steeply on the other side of the stream...no one could come at them from that direction. They needed to stop and rest...he needed to do something for Iolaus...at least bring down the fever, if he could.

Herc laid Iolaus down in the shade of the trees, beside the stream. He gently removed his friend's vest...and it was then that he saw the festering wounds crisscrossing his partner's back, some cutting deep, to the bone of his spine and ribs. "By the gods, Iolaus," he whispered, appalled at the damage, "what did they do to you?"

"Tried to whip him to death," answered Leah, her voice almost breaking, "a couple of days ago...after he tried to stop one of those animals from...hurting...me...."

Hercules looked sharply into her eyes, saw the strength there, overriding the painful truth...saw her deep concern, when her eyes looked down at Iolaus. "He's...he's been in rough shape ever since they dragged him in behind a horse. From the look of him, I think they must have dragged him for miles." She looked back up at Hercules as she continued in a low voice, "He was badly hurt, then...his ribs. And, even though sometimes he'd seem to get better, they'd either beat him again...or the fever would flare up....He tried so hard..." she said, her voice catching on a sob, "he tried to stay strong for us...he'd stand between us and the guards, when they got too mean, too brutal...so they'd beat him instead. He never would eat much... said he wasn't hungry... but I think he was just trying to leave more for the rest of us...But, he's been coughing up blood again for days...and the fever just keeps getting worse. None of us can understand how he's managed to live so long...."

"He's strong," Hercules murmured, as he turned back to continue his inspection of Iolaus' body. The dark bruising on his side, the swelling there, and the way Iolaus flinched and moaned when Herc touched the area, showed him where the ribs were cracked and broken. Loosening Iolaus' belt, and removing his boots, he pulled his friend's leather pants off. Modesty was not something Iolaus ever worried much about, and Herc didn't think he'd mind being stripped now. A swollen knee, wrenched badly and never fully healed, was the last major injury he found. But, Iolaus' body was covered with scrapes, half healed cuts and bruises, layered over older scars of whip marks, gouges, scrapes ... dragged ...for miles.... Hercules clenched his jaw against his anger. His worry and anger were so great, he didn't really register the old scars...didn't stop to wonder how there had been time for so many other injuries to have healed.

Stripping off his own clothes...while modesty was something he did care about, Iolaus was more important...he knelt and pulled Iolaus back into his arms, then carried him into the frigid stream, kneeling to hold Iolaus steady in the water, holding his head above the gurgling torrent as it rushed past, along his body, cooling the raging fever.

Unconsciously, his buddy sighed a bit, somehow aware of the blessed cold water moving against and over his skin. The water revived him a little, it was the first time in it seemed like forever that he hadn't been hot. Blinking, he looked blearily up at Hercules through pain and fever glazed eyes.

"You're really...here...." Iolaus murmured. "I thought it was...a dream...."

"I'm really here," Hercules responded softly, brushing Iolaus' damp hair back from his flushed face, while his other arm supported his partner's slight body in the water. "Don't try to talk..."

Iolaus drifted for a moment, then struggled to focus again. "No..." he panted, "you shouldn't be here...shouldn't be with me....you have to go.....leave...me...save the others...."

Hercules snorted at that. As if he'd leave Iolaus now...like this...ever. When Iolaus erupted into a fit of coughing, bright bubbles of blood on his lips, Hercules held him more firmly, supporting him, to help him breathe. Herc's heart twisted as he carefully wiped the traces of blood away.

Iolaus felt a desperate fear cut through the fog of fever and pain. He was dangerous...if he muttered something, the wrong thing, in his sleep, or while caught in delirium, Herc could die. He struggled feebly, when he got his breath back, "Herc, please...you can't stay...near...me....dangerous....."

Hercules held Iolaus tight against his chest, blinking back the hot tears burning in his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat...this was the man he had just let walk away....the friend who even now worried more about him, than he did about himself. "I'm not going anywhere, Iolaus," Hercules said, as if swearing an oath, "I'm not leaving you....besides...being near you can't hold any risk for me...no matter what some god told you...I've carried you for hours...so don't worry...."

"Herc...you...don't understand," Iolaus gasped, but Hercules cut him off.

"I'm _not_ leaving you," Herc grated, "...so shut up and rest."

Iolaus felt the strength of the arm which supported him. Looking up, he felt like he could lose himself in the burning blue gaze that met his own...he felt a gentle hand brush his cheek, belying the firm, almost harsh, tone Herc had used, and the fight went out of him. Herc always did hate him making sacrifices... always did have to fight the anger he felt whenever Iolaus got himself into some kind of trouble on his account.

Iolaus blinked against the tears of relief, and gratitude, to have Herc here with him. Gods, it had been so long...and, Herc didn't hate him...had come looking for him...Hercules still cared about him...gods, it was so good to see him again. Somehow, from within the haze of pain and fever, he found a smile, one of those smiles that lit the whole world, as he whispered, "'kay, Herc...I'll...rest....thanks...." And then, he felt the blackness come over him again, like a cloak, to protect him from the pain.

Hercules held him a while longer in the chilling waters, then carried Iolaus back to the shore. Laying him upon a carpet of leaves and soft grass, he used his shirt to dry Iolaus' body, and then to dry his own. Finished, he pulled on his pants and vest, without ever taking his eyes from Iolaus' still, bruised face. Leah had knelt again by Iolaus, supporting his head on her knees, stroking his wet hair, clean now from the river. Herc glanced around and saw that the other slaves had simply collapsed where they had stood... waiting silently for him to tell them what to do next. The slavers couldn't be far behind them now...they weren't safe yet.

Hercules bent to kneel next to Leah, saying to her softly, "I'd like you to sit back against that tree," he gestured with his head to the sturdy trunk near by, "and I'll lay Iolaus against you...propped up a little, so that he can breathe more easily. Alright?"

She nodded, and slipped backwards until her back was supported by the tall pine. Herc lifted Iolaus, then laid him back against Leah, his head and shoulders supported by her body...her arms around him, holding him steady. Herc nodded gratefully. "What's your name?" he asked, realizing he didn't know.

"Leah," she said softly.

"Leah," he smiled a little, "my name is Hercules." His smile grew wider when he saw her startled expression. "Iolaus is my best friend," he said then, "and, I saw you were looking out for him back there...helping him...I'm grateful."

She just shook her head a little, refusing the gratitude. "It's okay...we all try to look out for one another...and he helped us when he could....we'd never have fought back, if he hadn't told us we could...if he hadn't kept showing us how...he just wouldn't ever give up...."

Leah looked back up at the stranger. Hercules. She could hardly take it in. He'd said Iolaus was his best friend...but, Iolaus had never mentioned him...not directly. Sometimes, when he'd been delirious with fever, he'd called out Hercules' name...but, only then...never when he was awake. And, if Hercules was such a good friend, why had it taken him a year to find Iolaus? But, looking at him, seeing the worry, the pain...the guilt...in his eyes, she didn't have the heart to ask. He'd finally come...she supposed that was all that really mattered.

Unaware of her scrutiny, Herc sighed at her last comment as he gazed again at his waxen friend...dead on his feet, and he'd still fought back. Then, he stood and turned to face the others. They needed to get organized, get ready for the attack which was sure to come. Not far behind them, back along their trail, they'd passed through a narrow cut in the rock. That's where he'd make the stand....and, he'd have to win...none of them were in any shape to care for Iolaus...none had the strength to carry his friend to help... and with his damaged ribs, Iolaus couldn't be carried down off the mountain slung across the back of one of the horses. It would kill him.

Quietly, he explained what he was going to do...stand, and block the slavers from getting to them. The slaves watched him, large eyes staring unblinking from filthy, gaunt faces. Then, they stood, gripping weapons if they had them. "We're going with you," one said with tired determination.

Hercules shook his head. "No...you don't stand a chance against them...."

But, another just cut him off. "We're fighting with you," the lad said, as he turned to stumble back to the cleft a quarter of a mile along their back trail. The others turned then, to go as well, and Hercules knew there was no way to keep them from facing this threat. He walked amongst them, supporting one or another, when they stumbled. "Okay," he said, as they walked, "thanks...."

The first who had spoken, turned, shaking his head. "No...we have to thank you...and your friend, Iolaus...without the two of you, we'd still be back there...."

Herc swallowed at that. He assessed them, looking for those who seemed most strong, most steady on their feet. He touched the shoulders of one of the men, and one of the older youths. "I'd like you to climb up above the cleft...and be ready to shove rocks, and boulders, down on top of them when they are all inside the narrow passage...." The two nodded, and set off in an oblique direction, to find a way up and onto the ridge of stone.

When the rest of them got to the cleft in the rocky terrain, Hercules gave a few, quick lessons on the use of swords...hold in both hands, in front of your body, don't swing wide or wild, try for body wounds....the body is a larger target than a head or moving legs. Others, who did not have weapons, gathered rocks to throw or to use as bludgeons. Herc fashioned a crude staff for himself from a long branch he broke from a nearby tree. Then, they piled rocks and broken limbs across the narrow defile...anything to impede and inhibit the horses, to force the men to come at them on foot.

Finally, Hercules positioned them as best he could, slightly back of where he, himself, would be standing... if he couldn't hold back the fifteen or sixteen seasoned warriors on his own...he could at least slow them down, so those who got by would be easier for the others to take.

They were as ready as they would ever be...they settled down to wait.

* * *

The shadows had begun to lengthen by the time they heard the clip of hooves against stone. The slavers were coming, following the all too clear trail they had left in their flight from the quarry. The defenders stood, readying themselves for battle...grim, silent...determined. They wouldn't be taken back...not now, not after having regained their freedom. They'd die first.

The first horseman had just appeared around a curve in the defile, when they heard the crash of boulders from above...and the screams of frightened, bruised animals and furious, surprised men. There was wild shouting, as the riders urged their mounts faster, trying to get clear of the walls which hemmed them in...only to have their horses stumble over the obstacles placed in their path. They piled up, against one another, men pitched from their mounts, others leaping clear, with weapons in hand...screaming their rage at the slaves who dared to defy them, running toward the slaves, away from the rocks and boulders raining down upon them.

Eyes widened when they saw the tall, muscular demigod standing quietly, feet apart, waiting for them to come....with what looked like a small tree trunk balanced in his hands. Then, they charged. Hercules shifted, bringing the staff around, catching the first three and sweeping them away, knocking the air from their lungs, awareness from their minds. Three others ducked under the swing and kept coming...but, as they neared the demigod, they were pelted with rocks, and as they brought their hands up in unconscious self protection, slaves stepped forward to drive swords into them. One fought, only to be overcome when three slaves centred their attention on him, overwhelming him with their silent fury. Then four more came through the cleft, and Herc whirled, giving his staff more deadly momentum, knocking them senseless. It was quiet for a moment then, and Herc took a quick look to count the men who had come at them...ten. There had to be five or six more...but, maybe the initial onslaught of boulders had taken care of them.

He had just dropped his staff, when one last man walked out of the cleft. A monster of a man, with a twisted, scarred face, and a patch over one eye. "Gordius," murmured one of the slaves behind Hercules.

Gordius. The man responsible for their slavery....for the torture inflicted on Iolaus. Herc's light eyes had darkened to flint, as he waited for the man to come to him. Gordius was carrying a sword, and he moved with an arrogant confidence toward the demigod, thinking he only had to take out the big stranger...and the others would lose their desire to fight him. He knew most of his men weren't dead...just stunned...they'd soon be back on their feet, fighting with him...punishing these errant slaves for their foolish, hopeless resistance. He'd kill two for every one of the mercenaries who had died that day.

Swinging the sword in tight loops in front of him, Gordius advanced on Hercules. The demigod watched him come, a cold smile of anticipation playing on his lips. He was too confident, and Hercules knew that was his mistake. As soon as the man was close enough, Hercules burst into motion, whirling around, bringing up a leg to kick the sword from the warlord's hand, following the kick with a hard, solid punch to the man's head, sending him to his knees....but, Gordius just shook his head, like an enraged bull, then grabbed a rock and leapt up, surprisingly fast for a man of his bulk, swinging the stone hard against the side of Herc's head, making the demigod stagger. Gordius leapt upon Hercules, intending to bear him to the ground, wrestle with him, use his massive weight to overcome the tall, muscular man. Gordius did not know who he was fighting...if he had, he might never have left the cleft of stone.

Herc wrapped a strong arm around his opponent, as they fell to the ground, and pummelled him with his free hand...Gordius blocked the first blow, but the force of it felt like it had broken his arm. They rolled, grappling in the dirt, until Hercules was above the other man, on his knees, holding the man with one hand, while he finished him with a powerful blow to the jaw. Gordius jerked once, and was still.

While Hercules had been grappling with Gordius, the slaves had moved among the mercenaries, ensuring each was dead.... Hercules, having finished off the warlord, looked up and saw what they were doing. "Wait! Stop!" he cried out...but, it was too late, they had finished their grim work. Hercules swallowed hard at the reality that they had killed their erstwhile captors, coldly, silently.

They saw the horror in his eyes, but they weren't ashamed. "That one," choked out one boy, pointing to his victim, "killed my sister...after he'd...." "And, this one, killed my son," sobbed one of the women. All around him, there was a litany of pain, of terrible acts of torture and abuse. Each dead man had killed, often more than once, after having brutalized their victims. Herc looked away from their terrible eyes, clenching his jaw...it was justice of a sorts. Rough, mean....but justice.

He stood, and pulled a groggy Gordius to his feet. "This one," he said quietly, "goes to prison...this one lives to pay for his crimes...." The slaves stood silently in a ring around him and his prisoner. Then, one by one, they nodded, putting up their weapons. There was a different justice in that...it was right that the man who had imprisoned them should himself be imprisoned. Prison in Greece was not a gentle experience....they doubted Gordius would survive it long...but, he would suffer his loss of freedom for every day he still breathed.

They gathered up the horses, none of which had been badly hurt in the rock fall, and led them back to their camp, while Hercules alternately pushed and dragged Gordius toward his future.

* * *

Dusk had fallen while they had fought. When they got back to Leah and Iolaus, Hercules first bound Gordius with strips torn from the warlord's shirt, and shoved him to the ground. Some of the others had gathered wood as they'd walked back, and Herc used his gauntlets to quickly light fires around their hasty camp, to drive back the chill which had fallen with the night. He wished he had food for them...but, he didn't...and he'd never be able to hunt enough game to satisfy so many. Instead, he went to the stream and waded into it, balanced quietly for a moment, then his hands dipped into the water, a blur of motion, as he grabbed a fish and threw it onto the bank. In minutes, he had caught enough to satisfy them for the night.

Leaving the others to clean and cook the fish, Hercules finally turned to Iolaus. He was afraid of what he'd find. Leah had just looked at him, her face white in the shadows, when they'd first gotten back...and then she'd looked away, turning her gaze back to Iolaus, who was still firmly clutched in her arms. Now, having gone down to one knee beside them, he reached out to draw the tips of his fingers along Iolaus' cheek, to brush back his hair. His skin was hot again, and dry. The fever hadn't broken. Iolaus' breathing was raspy and shallow. Did Herc dare take his buddy back into the freezing water? Feeling the chill of the air around them, he decided it was too dangerous. If Iolaus succumbed to the cold now, Herc would never get him warm...and his friend would likely end up with pneumonia. His lungs were struggling hard enough against the damage done by the broken ribs without that added threat.

Herc carefully pulled Iolaus forward, out of Leah's arms. Supporting his friend's body, he said softy, "Thank you, Leah...for staying with him. But...you need to get something to eat, and you need to rest. I'll take care of him now." She nodded quietly, wearily, easing herself out from behind the unconscious man, and standing, she moved toward the closest fire. As she walked away, Herc eased himself into her place against the trunk of the tree, and drew Iolaus back against his broad chest, supporting his friend's head against one shoulder.

"They're safe now, Iolaus," he whispered to his unconscious friend. "You're safe. I'm not letting you go, ...you're going to be alright...." Hercules closed his eyes as he rested his chin on the top of Iolaus' head, cradling the smaller, badly injured, terribly ill, man in his arms. "Don't even think of leaving me, Iolaus... please, don't ever leave me again," he sighed into the night.

* * *

Iolaus passed a fitful night, thrashing weakly with the fever, mumbling incoherently...fearful coughing fits erupting to wrack his body. Hercules held him, wiped the blood away from his lips, murmured to him reassuringly, hoping his words kept Iolaus' soul close, not letting it slip away. When dawn finally broke, Iolaus was still fevered, but he didn't seem any worse, really, than he had the night before...but, he wasn't any better either. There were dark hollows under his eyes, his face was ashen despite the fever, his skin hot to Herc's touch. His breathing was still shallow and laboured...the infected wounds were still raw and weeping.

Leah had found aloe to crush and smooth over Iolaus' ruined back. Then, Hercules used his shirt to wrap around Iolaus' chest, tying it tightly to support his damaged ribs, and protect his ravaged back. Carefully, he drew Iolaus' vest back over his shoulders ...he'd dressed Iolaus during the night, to try to keep him as warm as possible against the night air.

When the others had all wakened, he made sure the weakest were mounted on the horses, to save their strength. Then, he lifted Iolaus into his arms...and they set out, heading down away from the mountains, to the village of Trikala. Hercules hoped there'd be a healer there.

* * *

I woke up a couple of times on that trek out of the mountains. The first time, I was disoriented, confused. I knew Hercules was carrying me, but I couldn't remember why....except that every breath seemed to rip into my chest and back out again, my back burned remorselessly, my bad knee ached and pain shot through it every time I jerked a bit in Herc's arms...and then I started coughing. Gods. Whine, whine, whimper, moan. I was truly pathetic. When I could focus, I stole a glance up at Herc's face, could see the set jaw, the drawn face. He was worried about me, I could tell...his concern gave me a warm feeling inside... eased some of the pain. I wanted to say something, anything...but it was too much effort. I was too tired. I had slipped away again before he even knew I'd been awake.

The next time, I was a little better...could remember more. I glanced around, saw slaves walking and riding beside us. Ex-slaves. We were all free now...Herc had saved us. I didn't know what had happened to the mercenaries who had to have followed us the day before...but the fact that we weren't hiding out in the mountains told me they'd been dealt with. But, it still hurt to breathe...and I could still feel the fever sapping away my energy, making me lethargic. I felt remote, not quite there. As if I would have floated away if Herc hadn't been holding me so securely. And, I was thirsty, parched.

"Herc..." I said...sighing at the pitiful, breathy whisper that passed for my voice. But, it was enough. He'd heard me.

Hercules looked down at me, smiled a bit to see me awake, finally. "How're you doin'?" he asked softly.

"Thirsty," I complained.

He stopped walking and knelt to set me down, to free one hand to find the waterskin slung over his shoulder...musta recovered it from the slavers who'd come after us, I thought...and then he held it to my lips, supporting my head while I drank. Exhausted by that small effort, I leaned back against his arm.... grateful more than I could ever say for his support. And, then, he was picking me up again, and we were continuing the journey to....wherever. Sighing, I regretted the need to be carried like some baby, but I knew I didn't have the strength left to stand, let alone walk. Gods, he was always having to carry me, feed me, nurse me, hold water to my lips....I wondered if he ever got sick of it....he never complained. But, then, he wouldn't.

"We're almost at Trikala, Iolaus," he told me, then. "I'm hoping we'll find a healer there...if not, we'll go on to Karpensisi."

"Okay," I murmured. I'd go where he carried me...I didn't much care where we went, so long as he was there. Silently, I thought about what Zeus had told me...that I had to leave Herc...disappear for a year. I wondered, now, how much of that year had passed. I doubted Hercules would let me out of his sight...and I couldn't walk away anyway, not right now. Maybe, maybe if we just never talked about what had happened, if I pretended it had never occurred...that I hadn't said those terrible things... hadn't abandoned him when he needed me most...maybe, I could stay without killing him...until I was stronger, and could disappear again, if need be. Or, maybe I'd die...and then he'd be safe. But, I was scared, and I shivered at the risk I was to his life.

Herc felt the shiver, and looked down at me, concern filling his eyes. "I'm okay," I mumbled. I was enough trouble without making him more worried than he already was. Letting myself relax in his arms, I drifted off again. Pathetic really...couldn't even stay awake for five minutes at a time. Really pathetic.

The next time I woke up, I was on my stomach, lying on a cot in a room lit dimly with flickering candles. Someone was placing hot poultices on my back and I hissed a bit at the unexpected burning. Lying there, I silently inventoried my injuries. There was a very tight bandage around my ribs...helped the breathing a bit. And, an equally supportive wrapping around my twisted knee. I guess Herc had found me a healer. I still felt unbearably hot...gods, I wished this fever would break. I couldn't seem to remember when it hadn't been plaguing me. After a while, the poultices were removed, and gentle hands smoothed a cool lotion over my back, soothing away the stinging burn of the deep trails the whips had left on my skin. Then, a light dressing was fastened across my back, and strong arms were easing me over. I wanted to help, I really did, but I felt like some kid's rag doll...all boneless, just mush.

I knew, even as he turned me, that these were Herc's hands. Maybe he hadn't found a healer after all...but, he was pretty good at taking care of injuries and poisoned wounds himself. Gods know, I'd given him enough practice over the years. He started a bit, when he saw me looking up at him...he hadn't realized I'd awakened a short while before.

He smiled as he brushed my hair off my face...he looked tired. Then, he was reaching for a mug and supporting my head while he raised it to my lips. I knew what was coming...one of Herc's foultasting miracle herbal teas. But, I was good...I drank it without complaint. He set the mug aside, but he didn't lay me back down. Just settled me more comfortably in the crook of his arm, as he sat by the side of the cot, resting his back up against the wall behind him.

He just gazed at me, as he again brushed my wayward hair out of my eyes. He was making me nervous. "What?" I finally croaked.

"You," he said quietly. "I've finally got you back. Gods, Iolaus...I was so scared when we couldn't find you...I felt like such a fool....couldn't believe I'd just let you walk away...disappear. And, look what happened...."

I gave him a crooked grin. "Yeah," I said, "we got to save a whole bunch of kids...we did good...."

"That's not what I meant," he said quietly. I knew it, could see it in his eyes...he was blaming himself again...thinking I could have died...dammit...I hated doing this to him...why couldn't I ever seem to keep myself in one piece. "I can't believe how much damage they did to you, in so short a time...." he whispered.

I closed my eyes, relaxed against his arm...and thought about what he'd just said. What did he mean 'so short a time'? Surely it had been almost a year....gods, it had felt like forever. But, talking about it would only make him feel worse. "'S okay," I murmured, "I'm okay...don't worry so much about me...."

"Iolaus," he said then, softly, "I....you saved my life...more than that...you gave me my life back...my strength...."

My eyes popped open and I stiffened. "No!" I gasped, breathlessly. We couldn't talk about this...we couldn't.... When I saw him wince, and move his free hand up to rub the back of his neck, I lost it....I went a little crazy.

I don't know where I got the strength...amazing what terror can do for a person. I wrenched myself out of his grip, flinging myself away from him, cowering at the foot of the cot, refusing to look at him, as I shrieked, "_GET AWAY FROM ME_!"

I felt his hand grip my arm, but I flinched away. "_Gods, Herc, please_," I begged him, "_please...get away from me....now_!"

"I don't understand...." his voice was confused...alarmed.

"_Just....go....you can't be near me....please....go...._."

I was shuddering in my terror, felt sobs building in my throat, tears burning in my eyes. Gods...if he died for this...for coming after me...for saving my life one more time....I couldn't breathe....couldn't stand it. "_Please, Herc_," I whimpered, trying to burrow into the wall beside me, "_get away from me....._"

"Easy, Iolaus," he murmured then, trying to get me to calm down before I hurt myself, "alright...I'll go...please...don't do this..."

I heard his steps across the wooden floor...heard the door open, but I wouldn't look at him. Maybe, if I pretended I was somewhere far away from him... '_gods, please Zeus, don't do this, don't hurt him..._' I screamed silently, from the depths of my soul.

And, then, someone else was there, gathering me into her arms, soothing me....Leah. I collapsed, then, sobbing, against her shoulder. 'Gods, let Hercules be alright...don't let me hurt him,' I begged in my mind, unaware, in my terror, that I was sobbing the words aloud. I'm the one who never used to cry...just then, I couldn't seem to stop.

* * *

Hercules leaned against the wall, just past the doorway, listening to Iolaus' sobs, listening to him begging Leah to keep Hercules safe...to keep Herc away from him. Hercules wrapped his arms around his chest, and bowed his head, wanting desperately to go back into the room and just hold Iolaus, let him know everything was fine...soothe away the terror he heard in his buddy's voice. Gods, what had just happened? What the hell was going on? What threat had the unknown god made that terrified Iolaus this much? Why wouldn't Iolaus talk to him...explain to him what was wrong?

Finally, the hysteria having exhausted his limited reserves of strength, Iolaus lapsed back into unconsciousness and Hercules could once again reenter the room. Listening to the laboured breathing, seeing the fevered flush on his friend's cheeks, Herc couldn't not help him. Lifting Iolaus' shoulders, Herc slipped in behind him on the cot, holding Iolaus against his chest...relieved when his friend's breathing eased a bit.

"What happened?" Leah whispered, her eyes wide and frightened. In the year Leah had known Iolaus, despite all the injuries, the pain he had suffered, she had never seen him cry....not once. She could not imagine what could have driven him to such terror that he had been shuddering, and sobbing, in her arms.

Herc wearily shook his head. "I wish I knew," he murmured in response.

* * *

When I woke up again, sometime before dawn, I stiffened when I realized Herc was holding me loosely in his arms, back against his chest. Gods...he wouldn't stay away. I lay still for a few minutes, listening to his breathing, making sure he was asleep. Once I was certain, I carefully eased myself away from him. Slowly, so I wouldn't waken him.

If he wouldn't stay away from me, then I had to get away from him. Carefully, I slipped off the cot, standing unsteadily for a long minute, one hand braced against the wall, fighting the dizziness, slowing my breathing. The house around me was quiet. I didn't have a clue where we were...but, it didn't matter, 'cause I wasn't staying. I looked at him, as I tried to find enough strength and balance to stand, drank in the image of him there, leaning back against the wall, as he half sat, half laid on the cot, his feet on the floor. He looked...peaceful, I guess. It was a better image to carry with me when I went...better than the last time I'd run away from him. I sighed then....I figured this could be the last time I'd ever see him....

Once I could stand without falling over, I staggered away from the bed, keeping one hand on the wall to support myself as I edged toward the door. At least I had my pants on...I didn't know where my boots were, but I wasn't going to take the time to look for them. In the room beyond, I saw Leah curled on a blanket by the fire. Such a sweet kid...at least, she'd be alright now...wish I could have said good bye... thanked her for all she'd done for me...but, that was impossible. I had to leave...before they woke up and stopped me. I spotted my vest hanging on a hook by the door, and took it with me as I slipped away into the grey of the predawn.

Outside, I took a minute to get my bearings, again having to lean on the wall of the small cottage for support. It was a village, at the foot of the pinnacles of Meteora...I could see them rise above me, disappearing into the early morning mist hanging over them. Which way? Stumbling away from the cottage, I headed back toward the spires of stone. I'd be hard to track on the rocky ground...and there were a thousand caves up there, where I could hide until I was stronger...or until I died. Whatever.

I staggered through the sleeping village, keeping to the shadows, leaning on walls. It took me longer than I liked, but, finally, I was climbing up the gravelly earth, half crawling actually. I swore under my breath, frustrated at how hard it was to breathe, how dizzy I was from fever...and the damned coughing wouldn't let up...making me double over...costing me time. Once I'd cleared the first knoll, and was hidden from immediate sight from the village below, I stopped to catch my breath, pressing a hand into my side, almost doubled over on my knees. 'Pathetic, Iolaus,' I grumbled to myself, 'you're pitiful and pathetic...and it's time you got your act together.'

Straightening, I headed off toward a cave I could see about a mile away. Too close to the village...but I wasn't going to be able to make it any farther. Stumbling along, ignoring the way the sharp stones were cutting my feet, I just hoped that I could make it that far. 'Zeus,' I thought then, 'if you won't help me get away...would you please just let me die...'

* * *

Herc woke with a jolt, realizing Iolaus was no longer in his arms. "Where the...?" he muttered, alarmed, then called more loudly, "Iolaus!"

He heard the sounds of movement in the next room, and bounded to the doorway. Leah was pulling herself up into a sitting position...she'd heard him call. Herc's eyes swept the room....noted the vest was gone, and headed for the door. "Leah," he called over his shoulder, "Iolaus has gone...we've got to find him!" She scrambled to her feet and ran to catch up with him.

Outside, Herc stood, fighting a feeling of panic. Dawn had broken less than an hour before. There were some signs that a few villagers were up, tending to live stock, beginning their day. Herc and Leah each took one side of the village lane, asking each person they came to if they'd seen Iolaus. No one had.

When they reached the edge of the village, Herc stood, running a hand through his hair. Where would Iolaus have gone? 'Think, Hercules,' he told himself. 'Calm down and think.'

His eyes swept the landscape around the village. Much of it was open, with little or no cover. There was a forest in the far distance, but he thought that would have been too far for Iolaus to have gotten in his weakened condition. Turning, he looked back up at the spires of Meteora. The caves. "Leah," he said, turning to look down at the diminutive childwoman standing beside him, "he's headed up to the caves.... I'm sure of it."

She nodded, ready to follow him, but he laid a hand on her shoulder. He knew she'd do anything for Iolaus...but, the climb would be too much for her. She pretended she was fine, but the lines of exhaustion were clear on her gaunt face. "No...wait back in the cottage for me...have water heating....and blankets warmed by the fire...he's likely to be in pretty bad shape again, by the time I get him back."

She continued looking up at all the caves dotting the many pinnacles and plateaus. "How will you find him?"

Herc just called over his shoulder, as he loped away. "Don't worry...I'll find him...he won't have gotten far."

In the end, it was the splotches of red, the smears of blood from Iolaus' torn feet, which led Hercules to him. Iolaus was lying just inside a cave entrance, having crawled the last few hundred yards, before pitching onto his face, to lie sprawled on the sandy floor...unable to go further.

"Gods, Iolaus," Hercules muttered, frustrated with his buddy's apparent determination to kill himself, "I swear I'm going to tie you down." Hercules gently rolled Iolaus over, and lifted him carefully. Then, he turned, heading back into the growing light of the morning...back down to the village below.

* * *

When I woke up again, I was back in the damned cottage, once again leaning back against Hercules. Gods, what was I going to do?

Herc had felt me stir, and stiffen...realized I was conscious. "You okay?" he asked, his voice light, calm.

'Uh oh,' I thought, 'I'm in big trouble...he should be yelling at me.' "Mmmm," was all I said aloud, pretending I wasn't fully with it.

"Don't you ever do anything that stupid again," Hercules continued, still sounding calm...but his arms gave him away, tightening around me, as if he'd like to shake me.

"Okay," I murmured. I lied. I was always doing something stupid...and I wasn't likely to stop at this stage of my life.

"What did you think you were doing?" he demanded, an edge finally sounding in his voice. Yep, he was mad alright. I guess I musta scared him again. Sigh. I didn't answer. What could I say?

"Iolaus?" This time, the tone was sharp. He wanted an answer.

"Leaving...I was leaving. I.... Let it go." I could sound sharp, too. I couldn't talk about it...couldn't tell him why I couldn't talk about it. Gods, this was hard.

"That's not good enough," he responded. Herc never liked mysteries...always wanted to know all the little details.

"Live with it," I snapped back. Yes, please, _live_ with it.

But, Herc wasn't going to let it go. "Iolaus, I'm trying to understand what's going on."

"I don't want to talk about it." Whole sentences, no gasping for breath...I must be getting better. Too bad.

"Well, I do," he snapped. "You bargain for my life, then disappear...."

"SHUT UP!" I yelled, pulling away. When he grabbed for me, I pushed back...sure, it was symbolic...I had all of the strength of a three day old kitten. But, he got the message, let his hand fall away. At least I wasn't sobbing hysterically this time. He must have thought we were making progress. Progress. Gods.

I leaned against the wall, keeping my back to him, spoke low, hoping maybe Zeus wouldn't hear me. "Herc, if you don't let it go...if you don't just forget...if you keep pushing, talking about it...I'll kill myself, I swear it. Do you understand?"

Silence. I guess that got his attention. I pushed a shaking hand through my hair. "I'm sorry, Herc," I whispered then, "I know you don't understand...I know I'm scaring you....but, I'm begging you...please let it go."

"Alright," he said finally. Then he gently pulled me back against him. He held me like that for a long time...and he never said another word. I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew, it was dark and I was lying there alone. At some point, Herc had taken my clothes away. Guess he wasn't taking any chances on my running again. I curled into the wall, sniffed back the treacherous tears, as I whispered desperately, "Please, don't hurt him...I'll leave again, I promise, just as soon as I'm well enough... please, just don't hurt him." I didn't know he was watching me from the doorway...that he'd heard every word of my whispered prayer.

* * *

I faded in and out, while the fever raged. Herc seemed to be constantly bathing my body, trying to bring the fever down. Finally, two days later, the fever finally broke...it was about time. The sweat poured from my body, soaking the sheets around me.

Herc had heard me thrashing around, and he came to kneel beside me. Then he touched my face...and sighed with relief. We both knew I'd be alright now...the fever had been the last real threat. Yeah, my chest still hurt...but the coughing had let up...and I hardly ever tasted the blood in the back of my throat anymore. It was just a matter of time now...I just had to get strong enough to walk away from here.

Sometimes, I swear he can read my mind. He gathered me into his arms, not letting me resist. "I won't let you go, Iolaus...so don't even think about trying to leave again."

I didn't answer...and he didn't say anything else. After a few minutes, he began to wipe the sweat from my body, and changed the sheets. I fell back to sleep.

* * *

Over the next day or so, as I became more alert to what was going on around me, I found out that Herc hadn't found a healer, but the village, jubilant that Gordius' reign of terror was over, let us use a two room cottage which was temporarily empty...it's owner being away to visit relatives somewhere. It would be another two weeks, at least, they told us, before we had to vacate it. They'd taken in the ex-slaves, giving them decent clothing to wear...old, second hand clothes to be certain, but better, by far, than the rags the poor souls had been wearing when they'd fought for their freedom. The villagers gave us food, and supplies...the generosity of ordinary people never ceases to overwhelm and amaze me. They clearly didn't have much... but what they had, they shared.

In the next week, I learned my fellow slaves had all managed to contact family and most had gone ... heading back to their lives. Gordius had been taken to Karpensisi...it had been a quick trial, I gather...and then he was shipped to a prison that liked to keep their inmates busy in the nearby salt mine. I was very glad to hear that bit of news....vindictive, I know...but I have a streak of pettiness that warlords and slavers just seem to aggravate.

But, the best news was when Leah learned that some of her family had survived the warlord's attack. Her mother and her younger brother came to take her back home. Sometimes, the Fates are merciful. I was really happy for her...angels deserve to have something good happen to them, once in a while at least... otherwise, what was the point of being an angel? She hugged me tight before she left...and I finally thanked her for saving my life.

She didn't want to hear it, but I just laid a gentle finger over her lips, stilling her protests. "I would have died, Leah, if you hadn't kept me going...they would have killed me the first day...or, when I collapsed...or, after they had whipped me. You know it. I know it. If you ever need my help, no matter what the reason, you send for me...and I will come. I promise you." She cried a little then, and just hugged me harder....and then she was gone.

My appetite came back, and I started to eat...getting stronger with each passing day. Mostly, all I'd needed was to be able to rest, let my body heal. I hardly coughed at all any more, and after another week, it no longer hurt to breathe. My knee wasn't bothering me any more either... and I guess my back was healing... it was sure itchy!

Herc and I talked about all kinds of things. The weather. The season...it sure had been a hot summer. And, yes, it would be a relief when things cooled off in the fall. Yes, I'd like some more bread...no, I didn't want any more soup...scintillating conversation. When we weren't talking, he'd sit and frown, or sit and look at me with worried eyes, or stand and pace, or bite his lip...it was driving me crazy. "Would you just go for a walk!" I finally snapped, exasperated.

"Nope," was all he said. Then, he sat down and stared at me some more. Sigh. He wasn't going to let me out of his sight. Didn't trust me not to run....and he still hadn't given me my boots back.

Two days after that, Jason thundered into the village, with a half dozen of Iph's palace guard. Great...Herc had sent for reinforcements. Now I'd never be able to sneak away.

Turning my eyes up to the ceiling, I thought, 'Zeus, you're going to have to give me a break here...either that, or whisk me away....Your son is as stubborn as you are...and he's not going to let me go."

Zeus didn't say anything back. Damn.

* * *

It was Jason who finally figured out most of what happened...or, at least, he thinks he figured it out...but, it was something that he said that finally helped me to understand that something very strange had happened.

Jase and I had gone walking in the fields outside the village the afternoon after he'd arrived. I knew he'd already heard Herc's version of what was going on...that I was acting like a stubborn mule as usual, stupidly determined to disappear again, the first chance I got...and that I wouldn't talk about it...wouldn't let him talk about it. It was hard to argue with Herc's version...he had it just about right.

When I wouldn't explain myself to Jason either, he just sighed in his patient way, and led me into the shade of small grove of trees, pushing me down to sit on a handy rock.

"Alright, Iolaus, if you won't talk, I will...you don't have to say anything...but, maybe you could nod or something, if I'm on the right track."

I made a face, and looked into the distance while he talked.

"Alright, then," he began in his deep, rumbling voice, "everybody knows you made a bargain with a god to save Hercules' life and to heal him after his neck was broken." He paused. I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. 'Everyone knew?' I challenged silently...they were guessing...and I wasn't telling.

"Hephaestus as much as confirmed it when Hercules went to him for help in tracing you." Now, that got my attention. Jason grinned wickedly when he saw the surprise in my eyes.

"So," he continued, "now that we've got that straight....We also pretty much know that the bargain required you to leave your old life behind...gods always require something in return for doing a favour. Nice that whichever god it was didn't actually kill you."

I shrugged at that...it all depended on your perspective. Life in a prison of emptiness didn't seem like that good a deal. A year as a slave in that quarry hadn't seemed like such a favour. I looked away again, pretending to ignore him.

"And, since you won't say anything, explain anything, I'd guess that the bargain requires your silence.... and, the mystery god must have made it a good threat, to have frightened you so badly you crawled away to a mountain cave to get away from Hercules." It seemed Herc had told him everything that had happened.

I shook my head, frustrated. At least he'd figured out I couldn't talk about it...which was more than Herc had done. I think Herc thought that I just believed my presence near him was a danger somehow. "Jason," I finally said, wearily, "this isn't getting us anywhere...and the speculation is dangerous."

"Maybe," he allowed...but then carried on anyway. Once a king, always a king...Jason was used to getting his way. "I can think of only one thing which would frighten you that badly, Iolaus. I figure you were told that if you broke the bargain, Hercules would die." When I flinched, ready to run, he laid a restraining hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, that's what I figured."

Neither of us said anything then for a while. Jason rubbed his chin, frowning deeply, as he thought his way through our problem. Finally, he started talking again. "I don't know, Iolaus...it seems to me that you've kept your part of the bargain. You made Hercules believe you didn't care about him long enough for you to disappear. Ever since he's found you, you've done nothing but try to push him away or run away again yourself...but, you had already run...it's not your fault he found you...not your fault Hephaestus gave him enough oblique hints for him to pick up your trail. You kept the bargain. And, you've refused to say anything about it...you're still keeping your part of the bargain. So long as you never do talk about it, I think the two of you will be alright...if not, Hercules would be dead by now. Afterall, you've been together again for more than a week now and no lightning bolts have struck him down."

I stared out over the horizon, wanting to believe him...but, I remembered the twinge of pain, and Herc rubbing his neck when we'd first arrived here...I figured we'd gotten closer than I ever wanted to finding out the boundaries of this deal. But, I desperately needed to believe Jason was right, wanted to grab onto the hope he held out to me... "You're just speculating, Jason...I haven't told you anything."

"No...and I know you never will."

I turned to him then, the hope burning in my eyes. "Do you really believe what you're saying...that it could be that simple...I mean, it's just a theory...but...do you think...."

He smiled down at me then. "Yes, Iolaus...I do believe it. Kings can drive hard bargains...but they also know when to be merciful...when it's earned, and deserved."

Now, he was scaring me...really scaring me. He'd figured it all out. 'Kings'...he knew the mystery god was Zeus. I was a fool to think I could keep it a secret...who else would I have begged for help?

"Don't...." I managed to choke out, afraid to say more. I'd started to tremble...and I doubt there was much colour in my face.

Suddenly solemn, understanding my terror, he replied, "Don't worry...I haven't shared all of my suspicions with anyone but you...nor will I share them all with anyone else...."

I sagged then, hanging my head, still so afraid. He stroked my hair, as if I was some lost child. I wanted to weep. "It's going to be alright, Iolaus....the bargain was that you leave and not tell him why...you've kept your end of the deal..."

I shook my head at that..he'd figured it out...all of it. "Gods, Jason..." I whispered. Was I really so transparent? Apparently so, as Jason continued...as if he was reading my mind.

"You're an honest man, Iolaus...you really don't lie very well, at least, not to the people you care about... and, we all know you'd give up everything for Hercules, die if need be, if that was cost of saving him... You've done it before, and he lives in terror that you'll do it again. This wasn't all that hard to figure out...especially when you kept fighting so hard to push him away...but wouldn't tell him why."

"I've been so scared," I murmured.

He patted my shoulder. "I know, Iolaus...I know. But, it's over now...you can come home."

We sat there, then, in silence, for a long time. I wasn't so sure that it was over. I still didn't know if a full year had passed...and I couldn't really ask them, because that would just lead to questions about why it mattered...and why had I left in the first place. Jason gazed at me, sensing my continued tension. I guess he'd been trying to think of something else to talk about...something to distract me a little...or to make me feel better, somehow.

"Hercules told me how close you and the other slaves had become...how much the girl, Leah, was that her name, cared about you."

I smiled a little at that. Nothing like living on the edge of death for months at a time to bring folks together. "Leah is a great kid, Jason...she kept me alive..."

Jason smiled sadly at that. "I'm sorry, Iolaus...sorrier than I can say that we didn't find you sooner. I can't believe how badly you were hurt, how wasted...." he coughed, maybe figuring that pointing out 'how wasted' I was wouldn't make me feel a whole lot better....but, then he finished his thought, "in such a relatively short period of time....."

There it was again....Herc had said almost the same thing. Surely, neither of them could really believe that a year in Tartarus only constituted 'a short period of time'. I turned to him, and he could see the puzzlement, the confusion, on my face. I was trying to understand...something wasn't connecting right... but...then, he spoke again...and it became a whole lot clearer.

"Iolaus, Hercules realized, almost immediately, that you'd told him a pack of lies to distract him...so that you could get away, before he realized...." He'd seen me stiffen and he broke off...he really did seem to understand that we couldn't talk about this. Shrugging, he continued softly, "I just want you to know, Iolaus, he was sick with worrying about you...and with guilt for ever having let you go. He hasn't thought about anything else in the past month since you disappeared...nothing...except how to find you....how to get you back."

_Month_? They thought it had only been a _month_? What the hell....? It had been the longest _year_ of my life, and they thought it had only been a _month_? By the gods....I started to shiver...what had Zeus done? Had I gone crazy...or had the King of the Gods done something to the fabric of time? He'd demanded a year of my life....and, I guess I'd paid it...but how...how could it only have been a month for the rest of them? Had it been about more than just spending a year away? Had Zeus somehow taken that year, used it somehow, to help Hercules? And, if it felt like a year to me..._could it really be that the full year had passed_...that Zeus had let Herc find me only when it was time?

Jason had seen the shiver, and concern clouded his eyes. I still was a long way from fully recovered, and he was afraid I might be getting sick again. "Iolaus...maybe we should head back to the cottage...you need to rest."

I looked at him...saw the worry and concern....but, I couldn't help it...I had to smile back. Hell, I had to laugh! It was over, I was suddenly sure of it...my year was done! I didn't have to run away again...all I had to do was never talk about what had happened. And, there hadn't been enough time pass in Herc's life for him to learn how to go on without me...our friendship was intact...strong. Herc had figured out what I had done, whether I'd ever admit it or not...and he still trusted me...would trust me with his life. Gods, I felt like dancing!

I jumped up and whirled a very surprised Jason around, laughing like a loon...almost crying in my relief. I don't know how he did it...but Zeus had made everything work out. Good guy, Zeus...my kind of god!

Jason clearly thought I had taken leave of my senses. I finally calmed down enough to reassure him that I hadn't gone crazy, all evidence to the contrary. I persuaded him that I was just happy to be free of the slavers...and back with him and Hercules. He looked at me a little doubtfully, but accepted my explanation. Smiling back, he looped an arm around my shoulder as we headed back to the cottage.

As we headed back across the field, his words came back to me.... '_it's over now...you can come home.'..._ He was right. It was over. I'd kept my word to Zeus...I'd given a year of my life for Hercules...and, I was glad that Herc, however much Herc or Jason might speculate about the bargain I'd made with a god, however much of the truth they guessed, Herc would never know, would never have to feel guilt about how much that bargain had cost. So long as I never talked about it, he'd be okay.

I _could_ come home now....thank Zeus.

* * *

I don't know what Jason finally told Hercules...I don't really want to know. I'll keep my part of the bargain until the day I die...and beyond. I just know that when Jason and Herc came back from a walk after supper that night, Hercules came straight over to me, and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly. "Thank you," he said, his voice tight.

"For what?"

"Whatever." Herc finally understood he couldn't talk about it...and he's never said another word about it...ever.

I hugged him back. Tight. I was home.

Finis.


End file.
